Black Keys
by shawn-n-belle
Summary: Love and lust. Determination and desire. Feelings and sex. Student and teacher. Right and wrong. Those lines just keep blurring for Rachel Berry lately.
1. Prologue

Black Keys

**Tagline:** "A perfect rainbow never seemed so dull."

**Summary: **Love and lust. Determination and desire. Feelings and sex. Student and teacher. Right and wrong. Those lines just keep blurring for Rachel Berry lately.

**Spoilers: **None, seeing as how this story is completely, painfully, AU**.**

**Rated: **Mature audiences only.

**Pairing: **Quinn/Rachel. Rachel/Finn.

**Disclaimer: **television shows, movies, books and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings and events thereof, are properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

**Auhtor's Note: **First of all, check out the banner for this story in my profile because it's all kinds of epic. Thank you, AmyJean76! Secondly, this is a new story that I'm starting and I know it's going to be different than what you are used to. This story deals with adult matters, it's not for every one. If you feel like you may be offened by sexual acts between two females, you should not read this story. Now, with that out of the way, I do hope you enjoy the prologue, the flashfoward of the story that is about to come, you'll understand more as I post the next chapter as to why I chose this exact scene to start this off. I enjoy writing this very much, hopefully it pays off.

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Prologue

The cool black marble of the grand piano presses hard into the arch of her back as her body manages to fall away beneath her. A soft hand inches up her knee, playing with the linen of the black skirt that hangs ever so delicately from her petite waist. Cool fingertips press against her baby soft skin, a moan rumbles in the back of her throat as she struggles to suppress it, at least for the time being. Instead there is a soft whimper as the other body entangles around her, falling between her legs, becoming a woven, hot mess on top of the marble, familiar lips crashing together.

It is a heated moment of passion, lustful touching, whimpering, moaning, gasping. A moment of long awaited desire, of pulsing fingers and stolen kisses. A moment in which touching should never happen, in which these lips should never touch, in which roaming hands should have remained still, in which social standings should have played an important role. But this is not about professionalism, this is not about knowing limitations and having some type of self control. This moment, here, between them, is a long awaited moment that even the Heavens have no control over.

The advancing hand stops just centimeters from her center and a smile forms on the most beautiful pair of lips that dance against her neck. A tongue extends, flicking the pulse point that she is almost sure is now racing as she entangles her fingers in the most majestic blond hair, pulling the body tighter against hers. The moan trembles from the back of her throat, erupting ever so loudly, encouraging her lover. The blond smirks, teeth grazing against her skin as they desperately leave their mark, sucking hard against her. A gasp is heard which only provides encouragement to the inevitable.

The discreet area is now exposed, the black skirt becoming a tumbling, tangled mess onto the music room floor. A heavy laugh dances from her lovers lips as the kisses trail down her neck, sucking her clavicle and teasing her breasts that became exposed when her shirt was disregarded moments earlier as she was thrown against the wall. A thumb brushes over her sensitive area, her body tightening at the new sensation, gasping as a finger barely slips into her before pulling back out. The blond pulls away from her breasts after they feel as if her work is done there, a pair of chilling blue eyes crashing into the warmest pair of chocolate brown.

"You are so beautiful, do you know that?" Her lover asks and it has never been something that Rachel Berry has ever truly excepted. Beauty is not what she has striven for all these years, success is. Success. Stardom. Fame. Broadway. And somewhere along the line, she became distracted with the most beautiful thing, a thing that nobody would ever accept.

"_You_ make me beautiful. You're the only one who sees me for what I am and I'm the only one who sees you. You're my first everything," replies Rachel in a hushed whisper and the blond sighs, a smile trying to form but it is denied by a simple shake of the head.

"I shouldn't do this. It is not professional of me, this is wrong and you are only going to get hurt in the end. I can not stand the thought of hurting you, Berry," The voice replies and Rachel only sighs, her hand cupping the familiar face, brushing the soft cheek as she wraps her legs around their waist, pulling them hard into her. A trailing hand etches down her lover's body, finding their sensitive area, she teases it, softly, slowly, carefully, watching as the pained passion fills in those aqua blue orbs.

"You can't tell me that you don't feel anything for me," Rachel moans, her fingers shifting, grasping, pushing. Her lover moans, licking their lips, their sweat drenched body becoming intertwined around hers. Harder. Tighter. They moan, gasping, heavily, their blue eyes fixed upon hers.

"They won't accept this. They won't understand it," Replies her lover.

"I don't care about what other people think of me. I care about what you think and I think you want this too. Just as much as I do," Rachel demands, her lips colliding hard with her lover's. Her lover chuckles, their fingers curling inside of her, hard and fast, pushing against her contracting walls. Rachel moans, throwing her head back at the new sensation that now pulses inside of her, digging hard to find a way to keep herself quiet. Her hands grip hard into her lover, pulling them down hard onto her, fingernails digging into the arch of their back as they push into her, time and time again.

"Quinn!" screams Rachel, forgetting the formalities of the moment as she gives herself completely to the one woman that she shouldn't, the one woman that society will never accept her with, the one woman who could cost her everything. But for something so wrong, nothing has ever felt more right.

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Review please.


	2. Chapter One: New Beginnings

Black Keys

**Tagline: **"A perfect rainbow never seemed so dull."

**Summary: **Love and Lust. Determination and Desire. Feelings and Sex. Student and Teacher. Right and Wrong. Those lines just keep blurring for Rachel Berry lately.

**Spoilers: **None, seeing as how this story is completely, painfully AU

**Rated: **Mature Audiences Only!

**Pairing: **Quinn/Rachel. Rachel/Finn

**Disclaimer: **All television shows, movies, books and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings and events thereof, are properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

**Author's Note: **Hey guys. It's been a while since I've updated, I know. I apologize for that, life is crazy lately and I haven't had time to do much of anything. But I'm here now, with a new update and a new story line that I am sure that will intrigue you and keep you interested until the end of the story. I hope that you continue to love this fic because I do enjoy writing it and keep in mind that this _is_ an adult story and does deal with adult concepts. With that said, don't forget to share your thoughts because hearing what you think is my favorite part of writing! :)

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**Chapter One: **New Beginnings

There is nothing but silence radiating from the music room now; usual, harsh, silence. The piano that once brought so many ballads to life with the softest melodies now sits, disregarded, collecting dust in the corner of the room by itself. The guitars that once bounced with rock music as fingers slipped ever so elegantly across the strings, changing cords, now stand lonesomely behind the stage. The harmonies that were once created by the different vocals that filled the room, fall away in the silence. The harmony, the melody, the music, dying with every tick of the large clock on the wall.

To say Rachel Berry is a patient person may be as far from the truth as one could get, but today is different. Today instead of the hostile complaints, the hard sighs, the desperate shake of her crossed leg, she remains still and silent. There is no hard glances at the large clock on the wall, no mumbled curses about how unprofessional it is to keep someone waiting this long without so much as a phone call. No, today is far different. Instead, she only sits, her legs crossed, taking in the moment, breathing it in, with every beat of her fragile heart.

There is something about today, something out of the ordinary, something magical, something in the air that Rachel could not quite ignore. She feels as if her life is drastically going to change today, she just doesn't know when or how.

Glancing around the music room, her eyes find those of Finn Hudson's carefully studying her face. The blush quickly appears within her cheeks, the giggle dancing in the back of her throat but she forces to keep it suppressed, even if just for the moment. She supposes it is inevitable really, the flirting, the chemistry, the stolen glances and secret smiles. He is the star of the football team and she, the brightest shinning star of the Glee club. He is beautiful and girls are literally lining up to be with him so she knows that she should feel something when he flirts with her, when his eyes meet hers. Except she doesn't and she fails to understand why. He could love her, this she knows, but it is not that kind of love that she's striving for.

"This is lame. Let's just bounce," The voice of Noah Puckerman breaks through the barrier of uncomfortable silence that fills the room. Her amber eyes shift to his earthly toned skin, his tight muscles that fill out his muscle shirt and his chestnut eyes that now flash with impatience and frustration. She smiles faintly at him, at the impatience and frustration, perhaps she truly is the only one to understand him. For Noah Puckerman is a log of things, athletic, cocky and rude to name a few but under all of those acts, there is a heart of gold. A heart that only Rachel Berry has seen.

"While I agree that it is completely unprofessional to keep one waiting for such a long period of time and _if _this was anything else, I would agree with marching out of this room, perhaps we should be patient. Maybe they are worth waiting around to see the grand entrance I am sure they are going to make," replies Rachel in her familiar matter-of-factly voice. Groans and mumbled curses fall from the pursed lips of her peers, the entire group seemingly agitated with the increasing wait and she doesn't know why she expected more from them. To their groans and curses, Rachel only sighs in exasperation at their immaturity and impatience. Clearly they had failed to understand the meaning that comes with the statement "good things come to those who wait."

"Come on, Berry. You and I both know that this dude is just going to be some stupid Lima loser who failed at making his big break on Broadway and decided to fulfill his mission in life by teaching us the poor, unappreciated youths how to carry a note. This is just pointless," Noah grumbles, his dark eyes finding Rachel's amber brown. She remembers the time they spent together, his mouth upon hers, their fingers laced together. It was a love that was destined to fail from the beginning; a silly, pointless, irrelevant fling but she still can't help but believe that she knows him better than anyone.

"Yeah. Mr. Schuester would have _never_ made us wait this long," This voice belongs to Santana who is now running her fingers through her hair, twirling the jet black curl between her index and middle finger. Santana Lopez, the head cheerleader of the Sue's slightly vicious cheer leading squad is far from any one that Rachel ever truly wants to associate herself with. Clashing personalities would lead to a terrible friendship, she nods quietly to herself. Santana is far too head strong for her liking, too arrogant, too snippy. But she has to admit, she does have very nice vocals, a very strong and sound voice and certainly, she smirks, she isn't too hard to look at either.

"Yeah! Mr. Schue was _always_ on time. He never held us late," Tina voices her opinion and Rachel can only roll her eyes at this. Such impatience, she groans inwardly. What is so important that they must run home to? She wonders to herself, quietly picking at the strings upon her pencil skirt. Homework? As if. Family? It is quite obvious that family life in Lima, Ohio is anything but ordinary; especially when her two gay dads are the most stable parents of this tiny group.

"It is true that Mr. Schuester was never late but that is not the point. Mr. Schuester is no longer employed by William McKinley High. He took a leave of absence after his wife faked her pregnancy. We have to respect his decision to want some time to himself. What Mrs. Schuester was terribly selfish and cruel, perhaps Mr. Schue needs time to get on his feet again. To learn to trust and become himself again instead of an angry, bitter man. We have to respect his decision. And by respecting his decision, we must have patience and be welcoming to the new teacher," Rachel explains in her ever so professional voice. There is a few incoherent mumbles and groans from the teenagers that surround her and Rachel must remind herself exactly of that.

They are _teenagers_. Teenagers who care more about going shopping or going to cheer leading practice than actually making a good impression on someone who could help start their vocal career. Teenagers who care more about jumping in bed with one another unprotected than making it to Regionals and getting the much needed attention they deserve. Teenagers who certainly know nothing of self respect, let alone, respect for someone else.

"Yeah, come on guys. Mr. Schue is gone. No amount of whining or complaining is going to bring him back. He is _gone_. He's not going to come back for a while. The least we could do is make him proud by showing the new guy exactly what we can bring to the table. We can be respectful and patient and prove to the new guy that we are worth his time and effort because together we may actually have a chance at winning regionals," Finn jumps to Rachel's defense.

"Don't be ridiculous, Finn. Without Schue, we are toast at regionals. We will make a mockery of ourselves," Kurt's soft voice echoes over the hushed whispers. Finn only shakes his head, his dark brown eyes flickering from Rachel's all too perfect face to study the group around him, the group who clearly has already given up before even starting.

"But you don't know that! Not until you give this guy a shot! This guy could be the best of the best! He could be better than Schuester! He could be the star of Broadway whose dream is to help kids like us make it to the big stage because maybe secretly he was a kid like us too. Maybe this guy is a mega star with a voice to die for or maybe he just knows his way around the biz and knows how to get us noticed. We have to give him a chance, if not for him but for Mr. S," Finn explains, with a half smile turning upon his lips when he finds Rachel smiling at him. To this, there is only a bellow of laughter that escapes from Noah Puckerman. With a chuckling snort, the jock places his hand upon Finn's shoulder, shaking his head from one side to the other, a familiar smirk appearing upon his face.

"Man, shut up. None of us can take you seriously when you are talking shit like that. We all know that the only reason that you are saying all this mumbo-jumbo about "giving him a chance" and "making it big" is because you want to make Berry over there swoon. Don't even try to pretend like you give a rat's ass about what you're saying because the only reason that you are saying it is to get in her pants," Noah laughs, slapping Finn's shoulder rather hard.

"Dude!" Finn groans, clearly mortified that his friend would dare say such a thing, let alone say such a thing in front of _Rachel_. It doesn't take long for the blush to appear within Rachel's round cheeks, her slanted eyes studying the boys and her lips parted in the utmost disgust that such a thing be said.

"No, no. It's true. You've been wanting to get in her pants since the first grade. It's quite pathetic really at how painfully obvious in love with her you are," Kurt exclaims with a roll of his eyes, turning his attention back to Mercedes who sits to the left of him. Rachel shakes her head, raking her fingers through her hair as she tries to control herself.

"Noah Puckerman that was completely unnecessary," Rachel scolds and Noah only chuckles.

"Oh? Did I hurt the feelings of the little princess? Come on, Berry. You know that it's the truth but you're married to the music, to being the top dog and I'm tired of watching my best friend here waste his life away on a chick that cares more about singing to a bunch of strangers that being with someone who could actually love her. I'm tired of waiting. Clearly this Lima loser is a no show. Let's just bounce. Who is with me?" Noah exclaims, standing up as he takes his Letterman jacket from the back of the chair. Rachel only sits, still as sitting, her eyes watching the group of peers that surround her but nobody moves. As impatient as they are, they all remain still and silent, all watching Noah in his frustration.

"What? You guys are going to sit here and complain about it but when it actually comes to doing something for yourself and making a stand, you're just going to stay here? Unbelievable. Have fun, Berry. Your mindless zombies are clearly _respecting_ you and this Lima loser, you're getting exactly what you want. Surprise, surprise," Noah grumbles bitterly, slipping his muscular arms through the Letterman jacket, popping his collar dramatically.

"Excuse me, is this the music room?" A warm, unfamiliar voice catches every one off guard. Rachel tears her eyes away from Noah's masculinity to find the rather young woman standing in the doorway. A wave of comfort rushes over her, a wave of familiarity, of happiness; all of which she could not quite understand at the moment. The young woman stands quietly, her eyes glancing over the group of kids before a smile tries to tug upon her slender lips. Her blond hair hangs in delicate waves around her shoulders, her dark eyes alive with the utmost wonder and excitement. She is wearing a pair of black skinny jeans, something that Rachel can not help but roll her eyes inwardly over, a white blouse with a red vest and a lovely black fedora. She is quite fashionable, Rachel sighs with a swift nod of her head, and quite beautiful, even if she must say so herself.

"Yes. Yes it is," Rachel speaks before she is even aware the words have left her mouth. With a groan, she closes her eyes shut tightly, shaking her head carefully, allowing a tumbling curl to escape from behind her ear. The young girl breathes out a sigh in relief, a warm smile quickly playing upon her seemingly perfect face. She enters the room, a bag upon her arm and the music notes quickly catches Rachel's amber eyes.

"Good. I didn't want to show up to the wrong place... _again_," The blond haired beauty replies with a nervous giggle. She drops the bag onto the black piano, creating a sound that echoes through the silence as nobody dares to speak. Instead, every pair of eyes are fixated upon the woman that has just entered the room, just entered their lives, perhaps with more to offer than any of them would ever understand. Rachel watches the young woman intently as she opens her bag, shifting through what sounds to be piles of paper. Without even looking, she can tell that she is unorganized and the thought of this only makes her smile, maybe she will teach her something if she sticks around long enough.

"You are new here, aren't you?" Kurt is the first one to break through the uncomfortable silence and it startles the young woman. With a slight jump, the young woman's purse it sent tumbling to the floor and a mess of papers, books and pens are scattered around her in a disastrous mess. With a smile, Rachel stands and approaches the young woman, bending down carefully with a hand upon her skirt and helps the young woman gather her things.

"Yeah. It's my first day. Is it that noticeable?" The young woman asks with a nervous laugh, a familiar smile upon her face. Gathering the papers in her hand, the curiosity gets the best of Rachel as she glances down at the music sheets in her hands filled with black ink of notes and lyrics. Scanning them carefully, she hears the melody in the head, the lyrics fitting perfectly in rhythm of the four measured beats. She may be new to Lima, Rachel thinks to herself, but she certainly is not new to a life of music.

"Only a little. Your nervousness is perceptive. But mostly, the only reason I knew that you were new here is because of your fashion choice. No one here seems to quite understand the importance of fashion as I do so I would have known if there was someone else at McKinley High who paid as much attention to their clothing choices as I do. You are a good change to the terribly unfashionable world I am living in," Kurt groans with a shake of his head, squinting his eyes in despair at the group that surround him. After gathering all the paper in her hand, Rachel reaches the paper to the beautiful stranger and the blond only smiles at her. Taking the papers in her hand, their hands touch, skin briefly meeting and it sends a shock through Rachel, a shock that she can not comprehend.

"Thank you," The blond smiles and Rachel only nods her head in response.

"S-sure," Rachel replies with a stutter and the blond smirks before she places the papers back into her bag. She is familiar to her, although she can not quite pin point the when or the where. She has seen her before, maybe only in passing but she is not a stranger. Noah extends his hand to the lovely blond who smiles up at him, placing her palm within his, allowing her to help her up from the floor.

"My name is Noah. But you can call me Puck, baby. And yes, it _does_ rhyme with something else that I also do really well besides sing," Noah smiles, batting his long eyelashes at the girl who only forces a laugh.

"You think you are quite the charmer, don't you? I bet girls here just fall all over a boy like you with that Letterman jacket and that tan skin and those long eyelashes," The girl states and Noah only shrugs his shoulders with a warm smile, a _true_ smile, one that Rachel has missed seeing from his face as of late.

"What can I say? Girls love the Puck," Noah grins and she laughs, placing her hand upon his shoulder.

"Well not this girl. So, please stop trying to put on the charm because it just makes you look like a fool," She replies with a giggle and the whole room bursts out in laughter. Noah grumbles incoherently what can only be presumed as curses as he once again pops his collar, pushing his hands deep within his pockets as his cheeks turn a bright shade of red.

"See, Noah. Not every girl likes to be charmed," Rachel replies. The hazel eyes of the blond flicker over to study Rachel's face as she smiles at Noah and she can't help the smile from forming upon her lips as well. There is something about her, _something_ that she just can't quite put her finger on.

"You'd know, wouldn't you Berry?" Noah snaps bitterly.

"Okay! If you two love birds would like to stop flirting now, I would love to get to know every one. New girl, new place, it makes me a whole lot more comfortable if I can put names with faces. So, let's see. There's Noah Puckerman who I assume is on the football team because he is wearing that Letterman jacket. And.." The young girl's voice trails off as the group manages to pitch in, introducing themselves and telling a few things about themselves to make the new girl less socially awkward.

To say the kids at McKinley High were selfish well... it wasn't really that much of a lie but they were friendly and welcoming, even when they are impatiently waiting for someone who they view as a 'Lima Loser'. One by one, they come together to introduce themselves; Artie Abrams, Mike Chang, Tina Cohen-Chang, Finn Hudson, Matt Rutherford, Kurt Hummel, Mercedes Jones, Santana Lopez, and Brittany Pierce. All eleven, including Noah, socially and ethnically different, all eleven possessing different qualities and characteristics that she is sure she will enjoy learning.

"Right. So let's see if I get this right. You're Artie, Mike, Tina, Finn, Matt, Kurt, Mercedes, Santana, Brittany, Noah and you," The young blond stops, pointing to Rachel who stands, her face emotionless, staring back at her. She fights the smile that wants to form on her face and instead only shakes her finger at her, "what's your story?'

"Oh this girl? This girl right here is the princess. You have to worship at her feet, follow her around like a little lost puppy and sing her high praises because apparently this girl is the reason that we all breathe. In fact, according to her, we are even lucky to be in her presence," Puck mocks her tauntingly, waving his hands and Rachel sighs dramatically, raking her hand through her hair with a simple shake of her head.

"Ignore him. My name is Rachel Berry. I'm the star of the Glee Club," Rachel smiles brightly, proud of herself, "this club was nothing but a few outcast kids but I was the one who brought us all together. Well, with the help of Mr. Schue of course. Now we have some of the best vocals in the region, perhaps even in the entire state! But I'm the star. I'm the leading vocal. Now, you are new here so you don't quite understand but I usually get what I want and I am usually the lead of every performance." To this, the blond only laughs, surprised at how daring the girl in front of her is.

"Oh, you are? Well, that's not really how things work where I come from," The blond replies in a snap, her hands curving at her waist, clearly standing her ground. The group of socially different teens all snicker a laugh at the fact that such a new girl would dare stand her ground to one Ms. Rachel Berry.

"Oh, let me guess? You come from one of those little private schools, don't you? Where Daddy pays the tuition and pays the headmaster to be blind to all the pretty girls. You are beautiful, this is true and I am sure that your beauty got you everything you wanted at your little private school. But see this here is McKinley High and Glee club? The Glee club is _my _thing. Pretty girls don't always get what they want here and they certainly do not steal my Glee club away from me," Rachel replies bitterly, feeling challenged. The blond only shakes her head, glancing around the room of teenagers who all watch her with eager eyes, curious as to what her next move may be.

"You're feisty," The blond laughs, "and very presumptuous. You don't even know who I am yet and you already assume that just because I'm pretty, I have nothing to offer. But I wouldn't expect anything less from the 'leading star'." Rachel shakes her head in disbelief, wrinkling up her nose as she chokes out a laugh.

"Who are you? Come on, we all introduced ourselves. It's your turn. Prove me wrong that you're not just another pretty face," Rachel challenges and the blond smiles brightly at her. Tucking a strand of her blond hair behind her ear, she turns to face the group of kids who smile at her now and she laughs quietly.

"Hi every one. My name Quinn Fabray. To you, I am Ms. Fabray. I'm filling Mr. Schue's spot until he comes back from his leave of absence. You may have seen me perform when you were younger, I was the upcoming star from Ohio and contrary to your classmate's belief here, I am certainly _not_ just another pretty face," Quinn states and instantly jaws drop and gasps are heard, along with hushed whispers.

"Ms. Fabray? Y-you're our new teacher?" Rachel stutters and Quinn turns, nodding to her.

"That's right. And as of right now? There are no _leading_ stars, there are no _stars _of the Glee club. If you have a voice, then you better be using it to show me what you got. I've heard stories about you guys and I'm here to prepare you for the business, for what real life is going to bring you and in real life? There is no safety net, there is no guarantee that your jobs are safe. And right now? Your positions in this club aren't safe, including yours," Quinn replies and the group only gasps in disbelief and Rachel turns her head to the side, an arch of her eyebrow.

"Is that a challenge, Ms. Fabray?" questions Rachel. Quinn laughs, reaching forward as she brushes the brunette curl away from Rachel's face, allowing her thumb to brush against her skin. The girls simply stand for a moment before the smirk curls upon Quinn's lips, raising her eyebrows tauntingly.

"Show me what you got, Berry," laughs Quinn.

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Review please. :)


	3. Chapter Two: How Bad Do You Want It?

Black Keys

**Tagline: **"A perfect rainbow never seemed so dull."

**Summary: **Love and Lust. Determination and Desire. Feelings and Sex. Student and Teacher. Right and Wrong. Those lines just keep blurring for Rachel Berry lately.

**Spoilers: **None, seeing as how this story is completely, painfully AU

**Rated: **Mature Audiences Only!

**Pairing: **Quinn/Rachel. Rachel/Finn

**Disclaimer: **All television shows, movies, books and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings and events thereof, are properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the long wait, I struggled a lot with this chapter and it still didn't turn out the way that I had originally imagined but if I don't post it now, I'll end up changing it a thousand more times until I forget entirely where I was going with this story. So, I do hope you enjoy this, there is a very _important _Quinn/Rachel interaction within this chapter that is perhaps one of my favorites.

* * *

**Chapter Two: **How Bad Do You Want It?

"Working hard to get my fill, everybody wants a thrill. Paying anything to roll the dice, just one more time. Some will win, some will lose, some were born to sing the blues and now the movie never ends and it goes on and on and on," The sound of Rachel Berry's vocals echo through out the once quiet music room. The same voice that sings Broadway songs in the shower, the same voice that asserts her rights and her place in the world. The voice that she knows she has truly been blessed with in her life, the voice that she certainly has not been afraid to share with the world. Sitting on top of the piano, a notepad in front of her, Quinn Fabray studies the group and their movements of choreography, making notes of things that needed to be worked on, movements to be added or removed from their routine. She studies them, their movements, their actions, their relationships with one another both vocally and personally. She notes whom has chemistry together and who doesn't, nodding her head softly as she agrees with her decisions.

"Strangers waiting, up and down the boulevard. Their shadows searching in the night. Street light, people livin' just to find emotion, hiding somewhere in the niiiiight," Rachel and the boy introduced to her as Finn both sing in perfect unison with one another. Their bodies move together in the most bittersweet of melodies, the same display of undying passion written within their auburn swirls of tainted innocence. The girl sends a beaming smile in the direction of the taller boy, their eyes steadily locked together. Finn smiles, revealing his dimpling grin as he threads his long fingers between Rachel's, pulling the dazzling brunette into him. An action, of which, Rachel gladly accepts with the similar all knowing grin upon her face. To this, Quinn rolls her eyes with a disgusted grumble falling from her pursed lips. She _certainly_ had not missed this aspect of high school.

"Don't stop believin'! Hold on to that feelin'! Street light people!" The entire Glee club joins together now as Rachel pulls her hand away from Finn, much to Quinn's unexpected relief and twirls herself away from the tall boy. She takes a step toward the center of their make shift stage, her hips swaying to the music as she bats her long eyelashes with a deliberate smile pressed upon her lips.

"Don't stop believin! Hold on to that feelin'! Street light, people! Don't stop!" The teens sing together before the music abruptly ends and the only thing that fills the room now, other than the halting silence, is the sounds of their labored breathing as they struggle to catch a breath. Biting her bottom lip in contemplation, Quinn's hazel eyes scan the group of teens before her as she gently caresses the wrinkled paper in her lap. She glances down at the scribbled notes, the smeared ink, the careless doodles on the side of the paper as she tries to make sense of the musical number she has just witnessed and how to better prepare the group for competition.

"So, what do you think?" Kurt's voice breaks the awkward, falling silence. She looks up at the highly fashionable boy whom is supporting a warm, bright smile as he absently picks at a free strand upon his beige coat. Sighing in discontent, she simply nods her head as she jumps down from the black marble, running her fingers through her blond locks as she licks her lips softly.

"I think... you all have very nice voices. Some are a _little_ pitchy and some of you get off key but overall, you harmonize really well, which will ultimately be an advantage to you at competition. Don't forget that harmonizing is your friend, especially if you can do it really well," Quinn states with a warm smile, tapping her fingers against the notepad.

"We are really great, are we not?" Rachel beams a bright grin.

"Yeah. Mr. Schue was an awesome teacher! He was the one who inspired this whole number," Finn points out, with a matching smile. Quinn nods her head in understanding as she makes another scribbling note onto the paper, slowly beginning to pace between the group of teenagers.

"Come on, we are going to take Sectionals!" Mercedes smiles in a huffing breath, a big smile curling upon her lips. Pride and cockiness is definitely an issue with this group, she sighs. There is a thin line between being confident and being _over_ confident and she isn't exactly sure these kids know the difference. It takes Show Business only a matter of moments to crush someone, especially someone who is overly confident about themselves and their talents. A taunting laugh falls from her pursed lips, one that surprises the group as they stare at her with the same confusion written upon their flawless faces.

"All of you are in serious need of a reality check. I don't know what fantasy world you are living in," Quinn chuckles, wiping her brow as she carefully brushes a stray hair away from her face.

"Excuse me?" chokes Rachel. The thin blond shakes her head, a delicate melody of a laugh falling from her lips and Rachel sucks in a hard breath that she isn't even aware that has been stolen from her. A pair of hazel eyes meet the most beautiful pair of auburn brown and Rachel lets out a shaking sigh, her heart beating in a rhythm all of its own. Quinn smiles playfully, shaking her head as she takes a small step toward the young woman but instead stops, contemplating her words before her eyes advert over the entire group; her stomach churning at the smug smiles pressed upon their faces.

"You are a talented group of kids, I'll give you that. But having talent is not enough. And to be quite frank, that is all you have. None of you are prepared for sectionals and I can not believe that Schuester let it get this far. Well, yes, I can _believe _it. I mean, the man thought his wife was pregnant and yet didn't notice the fact that she was showing _no_ signs of pregnancy and.." Her voice trails off as she flips her wrist with a sigh, "the point is, if you want any chance at Sectionals, this is going to take a lot of work and it isn't going to be easy. A lot of work is going to have to be put into this. A lot of choreography. A lot of rehearsals. Long hours. A lot of sweat and tears. Now if that isn't your thing, I suggest you don't show up for rehearsal tomorrow because Schuester ran this club like a playground and things are certainly about to be change now that I'm in charge." The blond exclaims, sitting the wrinkled paper down upon the marble piano as she fiercely gives the group one last look over, making her final decisions within her mind.

"Does this mean we can go now?" Puck asks, raising his hand from the back of the group. She smirks playfully at the cocky football star, batting her long eyelashes toward him and watching unmercifully as the flirtatious smile curls upon his lips; even though she knew full and well, Noah Puckerman had a better chance at getting hit by a comet than going on a date with her.

"Really, Noah? And here I thought you would be the one to stay after class for an after school special," Quinn teases and the group shares a hushed giggle as Noah's cheeks turn a soft red.

"Well, you know, I'm underage. If any one found out, that would get you fired. Not that I would tell or anything but it would be a shame to lose another very _fine_ and _qualified _instructor," replies Puck, sending a wink in her direction and she groans. She wonders if he is always this smooth with the ladies or if he is doubling the charm with her. However, she is not the type of girl to be charmed by _any one_, let alone Noah Puckerman.

"Yeah, that would be such a pity, now wouldn't it? Oh well, at least you still have your dreams," Quinn laughs and Noah nods, with a bright beaming grin on his face; one that is very similar to the one the fox wears after it steals the eggs from the hen house.

"That's right, baby. I do," Noah winks and Quinn bellows a loud laugh, shaking her head as the messy blond strands frame her beautiful face. She turns her attention to the notepad in front of her, carelessly flipping through the pages, shaking her head softly.

"You can go. I expect to see you all here tomorrow for rehearsal and we will start working on routines. I will make my decisions tonight and let you know tomorrow. Remember, if you are not willing to put a 110% into this, then I suggest you put none at all because we do not have time to waste on people who are not sincere about music. See you tomorrow," dismisses Quinn and the group lets out a simultaneous sigh of relief, included with a few mumbled curses that Quinn knows wasn't exactly meant to find her ears. They are in for a rude awakening, she thinks with an inward roll of her eyes, Will Schuester may have been their _friend_ and they may have loved him for it, but she certainly cared not if they liked her.

* * *

She watches as they crowd out of the room, a few pats on the shoulder from the gentlemen while the ladies busy themselves in giggles and gossip about the new instructor and their plans for the weekend. How naïve they all really are, she thinks with a sigh and yet how painfully jealous of them she is. She wishes she could have it all back; that innocence, the wonderment, the curiosity. Truly, she feels for them, because she knows the second they walk across that graduation stage, _nothing_ is going to be the same, nothing is going to be what had been promised to them.

Sighing, she turns around, twirling the pen between her fingers to find that she is not alone. She jumps, momentarily startled as her hazel eyes stare into her auburn brown. The younger girl allows a hushed giggle to fall from her lips as she clutches the coat in her hands, shifting her weight awkwardly from one side to the other. After today, Quinn knows now more than ever that there is something undeniably special about Rachel Berry, even if she hated to admit such a thing.

"Do you really think we are that bad?" Rachel asks as if such a thing would be preposterous to believe. Quinn studies her longingly for a moment, her movement, her features, her words and she hates the way that she reminds her so much of herself at that age.

"Berry," Quinn scolds, pinching the bridge of her nose as she begins to feel the onset of a migraine forming. It has been a long day and she isn't exactly sure how much of this she can handle before losing it. Rachel sighs in protest, laying her coat upon the abandoned seats and Quinn groans inwardly at the sight of this.

"I mean, I know that our choreography isn't exactly up to par which is odd considering we have two cheerleaders who know exactly how important choreography is to a good performance. And I agree, sometimes they tend to be a little pitchy, especially during performing. Some people need to learn their place when performing and how not to get in the way of the person singing their solo simply because they are jealous that they can not sing as well as them!" Rachel exclaims in a huff, rolling her eyes in annoyance and Quinn stifles a laugh in the back of her throat, listening intently as Rachel continues with her rant, desperately trying to fight away the smirk that wants to form.

"But we are not all _that_ bad. Mr. Schue has done a lot of work with us to get us where we are today. He put people together who has chemistry and he discovered who had the best vocals and gave them the solos. He taught us about harmonizing with one another and the fact that the judges at sectionals are looking for originality as well as tradition. We are more prepared than you think," Rachel defends her group and Quinn nods her head in understanding before she returns her attention to the notepad in front of her.

"You can go now," sighs Quinn, scribbling something else down on her paper. Rachel watches her for a moment, the thoughts racing through her head as she tries desperately to make sense of them. Make sense of this moment that seems to last forever around her, make sense of the fact that she never wants it to end. Her eyes scan Quinn's slender body, the vintage clothing that hugs perfectly around her body and a soft smile plays upon her lips. The blond looks up over her eyebrows to find the brunette still standing there and she groans in annoyance.

"I'm sorry. I just.. I think we got off on the wrong foot earlier," smiles Rachel.

"From watching you dance, I'm not even sure that a _right _foot with you even exists. Seriously, with all that 'talent' that you say you have, I assumed that you could at least dance well. Apparently, we were all wrong with the assumptions that we made today," Quinn mumbles, shaking her head slightly as she continues to write. Rachel makes an incomprehensible nose, one that is similar to the sound a puppy makes when its tail is stepped on.

"You know, you do not have to be rude," Rachel practically almost pouts and Quinn rolls her eyes inwardly.

"Oh, so, because I'm not telling you what you want to hear, I'm being rude? You know, you think you know everything there is to know and I suppose that is all part of being a teenager but you still have a lot left to learn," Quinn chuckles, shaking her head, pushing her fingers through her golden mane, "a lot left to learn, Berry." To this, the brunette scowls, contemplating her options as she allows her own, bitter and short laugh to fall from her delicately pursed lips. It is a sound that catches Quinn entirely off guard and her head snaps up, studying the young girl.

"My name is Rachel," The brunette barks in a laugh and Quinn nods her head, slowly standing as she forces a smile upon her face. She misses this; the spunk, the attitude, the passion, she misses the way it used to pulse through her veins the exact same way it does Rachel's.

"Yeah, I remember, " smiles Quinn before she turns her attention to rearranging and straightening up the stairs that have been left amok by the teens with a quiet hum in the back of her throat. Rachel watches her in the utmost silence, watching as her body moves fluidly between the abandoned chairs with a rhythm. Her tall body fits with the most perfect ease between the small spaces, her hips swaying to a melody that she would never understand. She studies her, the long blond locks that fall absently down her shoulders, the way they frame her small face perfectly. She is taken by her beauty, by her movements, with a feeling that she can not quite understand, with a dry mouth and sweaty palms that just did not make sense to her.

"You don't like me very much, do you?" Rachel questions with a shaky breath and Quinn turns around in a quick movement, a wrinkled brow and hazel eyes staring into the smaller brunette girl before her, "I-is it because I called you a pretty face earlier? B-because I didn't know that.."

"You think I don't like you?" Quinn asks, her eyes wide with surprise as she takes a step down from the elevated area, "I hardly even know you, Berry."

"I know but you have been..."

"Okay, I'm just.. I'm going to stop you right there. Just stop," Quinn instructs as she lets out a sigh in exasperation. Rachel only stares at her in confusion, eyebrows arched together and her mouth slightly ajar. The older woman laughs quietly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, her eyes darting around the room as she studies her words, contemplating the best way to put together the thoughts that race in her head.

"It is not that I don't like you. In fact, I hardly know you. You are _exceptionally_ talented, Berry. You are beautiful with an amazing voice and you are determined to let your light shine and those are wonderful qualities to have, especially with someone as much as talent as you have and for someone who wants to be on Broadway. But when I look at you, when I hear you speak, I know that nobody has ever pushed you, no one has ever challenged you or made you fight for what you want," Quinn begins and Rachel listens intently, hanging on to every word that falls from her lips as if they are the last ones that she will ever hear.

"Broadway, actually show business entirely, is a tricky place. Every one always says that all you need to make it in the world is talent and beauty, well, you have those two things. But I promise you, it is certainly not enough. You have to learn to be a fighter, to be scrappy, to challenge the best of the best. Every one looks at you and hears you and they know that you are the best thing that Lima has to offer. They don't challenge you because they know they will lose, you don't have to fight for anything because you have enough talent that you automatically get what you want. It makes you overconfident, it makes you naïve truly. In business, it is about how bad you want something. How bad you need it, how you can not do anything except eat and sleep and dream about that _one_ thing. Because it doesn't matter how talented or how pretty you are because if someone wants something more than you, even if they are less talented, they will come along and steal it away from you in one fell swoop. The business will view you as a distraction, of the utmost unimportance. It won't matter how successful you have been or how talented you are or even if you have a pretty face because at the end of the day, in show business? All they care about is breaking you," Quinn exclaims, placing her hand upon Rachel's shoulder as a warm smile plays upon her lips.

"And, Berry, you are too... you shouldn't broken like that," smiles Quinn. The moment lasts longer than either of the girls are prepared for; Quinn's small hand on Rachel's shoulder, the warm smile tugging on her lips, hazel eyes staring into the most delicate pair of auburn brown. The touch creates a reaction within the two of them, a chemical reaction in the pits of their stomachs, a reaction that aches them, shakes them to the core of all they have ever known.

"Hey, Rach, do you want a ride home?" The voice of Finn Hudson breaks through the silence of the room, startling both of the women. Quinn quickly pulls her hand away with a cough and the pink blush curls within Rachel's cheeks as she forces a giggle. She turns to face the taller boy whom is sending a dimpling grin in her direction, standing with his hands in his pockets, rolling his weight upon his heels.

"Uh, no thanks, Finn. I think I'm going to walk home today. Clear my head," Rachel smiles at his generosity but Finn stands in protest, with a quaint laugh.

"But it's raining out," Finn says so simply as if it is the answer to all the problems in the world. Rachel peers over her shoulder to find Quinn pushing her notes back into her bag and with a disheartening sigh, she turns to Finn with a careful smile upon her face.

"I know. And thanks but I have a coat. I'll see you tomorrow," Rachel smiles, placing a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. Finn looks defeated for a moment, hanging his head before he lets out a sigh and nods at her, a smile on his face. She hates to know that she has hurt him; even with something as simple as dismissing a ride home with him.

"Suit yourself. Be careful," Finn replies before turning his attention to Quinn, "see you tomorrow, Ms. Fabray." He beams in a bright grin and the blond smiles at him with a wave.

"See you tomorrow, Finn," She nods to the tall boy who beams another dimpling grin, sharing one last longing glance with Rachel before disappearing out the door. Rachel watches him go for a moment, trying desperately to feel something, feel _anything_ that every one wants her to feel but she simply can not. She is taken off guard when Quinn appears by her side, her bag over her shoulder and a laugh rumbling in the back of her throat.

"He likes you," Quinn states and Rachel forces a half smile.

"Finn? Yeah. He has pretty much been in love with since the first grade. No matter how many times I politely refuse his offers to drive me home or take me out on a date. He is determined," Rachel sighs, grabbing her coat as she pulls it around her body, flipping her brunette hair from under the cover. Quinn nods her head in understanding as they walk toward the door, the pouring rain creating a melody with their steps.

"He has good taste," mumbles Quinn without so much as a second thought, watching the pitter patter of rain bounce upon the sidewalk outside of the red door. Upon hearing this, Rachel's head snaps up, a familiar wide grin appearing on her face but she forces it away when Quinn's eyes find her own. The blond lets out a heavy sigh, licking her lips before she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. The crashing silence falls around them, the silence saying the words that the women would never find the strength to say. Instead of saying anything, however, Quinn removes the hat from her own head and places it atop Rachel's. The scent takes Rachel back immediately, her heart quickening its pace as the indescribable scent of passion and innocence dances around her nostrils.

"It's raining. You'll catch a cold. Take care of yourself, Berry," Quinn smiles with a careful wink before she closes the door behind her, running desperately to her car as the rain pelts down upon her small body. Rachel watches her from behind the glass door, her fingers softly outstretched upon the streaked glass, creating an innocent fog from her escaping body heat.

_You are beautiful_

_You shouldn't be broken like that_

_He has good taste_

Maybe, Rachel smiles bashfully as she ducks her head, just maybe, change isn't so bad after all.

* * *

Reviews are nice.


	4. Chapter Three: All I Ask Of You

Black Keys

**Tagline: **"A perfect rainbow never seemed so dull."

**Summary: **Love and Lust. Determination and Desire. Feelings and Sex. Student and Teacher. Right and Wrong. Those lines just keep blurring for Rachel Berry lately.

**Spoilers: **None, seeing as how this story is completely, painfully AU

**Rated: **Mature Audiences Only!

**Pairing: **Quinn/Rachel. Rachel/Finn

**Disclaimer: **All television shows, movies, books and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings and events thereof, are properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

**Author's Note: **First of all, I want to apologize. School is kicking my ass, hard core. It is almost the end of the year and I hardly have time to even breath anymore so I am sorry that it took this long to update but it makes up for it, it is long. And Faberry-like. Haha. I really hope people are still reading this. And I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

**Chapter Three: ** All I Ask Of You

Rachel has always been excited about Glee club; she has always been eager to show up in a room of great acoustics and prove exactly how much of a star she is, no matter how badly she has been put down by the peers who torture her daily. She has always looked forward to singing the Broadway tunes perfectly matched for her vocals and allowing every emotion she ever kept inside to pour out of her in a melody of a four beats rhythm. But never, in her entire existence at McKinley High, has she been so excited about Glee club that she shows up twenty minutes early.

It is not about Glee club anymore, at least, not the kind that she has learned to know from William Schuester. It is not about sectioning off in groups and finding out how they perform together in a means of melodies and harmonies. It is not about overzealous choreography that seems to put most of the singers in a bad position of lighting and opportunity. Now it is about struggling, it is about challenges, about striving to be the best _of_ the group, not the best _group. _Now, it is about preparation and self acceptance. No crutches. No excuses. No do-overs. Just one moment. Once chance to make it or break it.

The brunette sits in the front row in a pencil skirt and a red top, her legs crossed as she stares absently at the large clock on the wall, the minute hand carelessly ticking in what seems to be it's own slow pace. Biting her bottom lip, she brushes her curls away from her face, groaning in impatience as her eyes venture downward to the slightly ajar bag that sits at her side. The tan brim of the fedora extends slightly over the edge of her purse, just enough to catch Rachel's eye. She leans forward as she removes the fedora from the bag, her fingers carefully stroking the pattern on the brim, a warm smile playing upon her lips.

"_It's raining. You'll catch a cold. Take care of yourself, Berry,"_ She can still hear her warm voice echoing through her head, the way the pleading vulnerability paints in her hazel swirls. For as awful, for as heartless as she is sure that people think she is, for the same no crap attitude that people cringe about, she knows that there is more heart, more caring to Quinn Fabray than she will ever let any one see. Perhaps, unintentionally, she is exactly what the Glee Club, what Rachel Berry needs.

Her trembling fingers trace the pattern against the brim as she tries to make sense of the warmth that pulses through her veins, the reaction in the pit of her stomach. It does not make sense, how someone so unusual, someone so new, could impact her life in such a way. She does not understand it, why she does not feel threatened, why she does not hate the idea of someone coming in and stealing her spotlight stealing her turf, but all she knows is that she likes the feeling she gets when the tall blond smiles in her direction. Like the missing puzzle piece finally coming together to create the most majestic piece of artwork.

However, she is snapped from her thoughts when the loud chuckles of her peers echo through the room. Glancing up from the fedora she finds the faces of Noah Puckerman, Finn Hudson, Santana Lopez, and Brittany Pierce, all alight with laughter and wonderment that she simply does not understand. And she is not so sure that she would even want to in the first place.

"Well, well, look what we have here. Of course, the princess would show up early for class," Noah teases with a bellowing laugh and Rachel groans, slipping the fedora back into the bag, careful not to grow her classmate's suspicions. Laughing forcefully, she twists her fingers in her hair as her eyes find his and he smirks at her.

"Why you are even surprised Puck? You know that she likes to be the best. She has to outshine us all, make a good impression on Ms. Bitch," Santana snaps, the words falling from her lips like poison, taking her usual seat in the back row beside of Brittany. A feeling surges through Rachel, one that she does not quite understand, a feeling of annoyance, of protectiveness, of pride and anger. She shrugs the feeling away, blaming it simply on knowing that it is understanding the pain of being an outcast, but unbeknown to her, the reasoning is far deeper than she would ever understand. At least not now.

"You know, perhaps if you would take a moment out of your precious time, that you spend painting your nails or finding someone else to bully because they are far more of an exceptional person than you are, and put that unattractive personal pride of yours aside to realize that this world revolves around one single spot in the universe and maybe, just maybe, that spot is not you, Santana. Then you would realize that Ms. Fabray has more to offer us than what I am sure you have already assumed now. Maybe if you actually gave her a chance and did what was asked of you, you would realize that she is not that terrible of a person," snaps Rachel, her eyes darting to the Latina sitting behind her. Santana scoffs with a hard roll of her eyes, a playful smirk playing upon her lips.

"Right. And you're Mother Theresa. Face it, Man Hands, Ms. Bitch _is_ a bitch. A cold, heartless bitch who burnt out on Broadway so now she is here to make our lives a living hell. She is not a saint just because you think that she can carry a tune and she praises you for the fact that you have decent vocals," Santana rolls her eyes in annoyance and Rachel shakes her head at the accusation.

"That tone is completely unnecessary. This is not about my amazing range and vocals," Rachel states and Santana slaps her knee.

"Of course that is all you heard. _Of_ freakin' _course_," Santana groans, straightening out the ends of her skirt, refusing to make contact with the diva at this point. With a wrinkled brow, Rachel studies the Latina, fuming with annoyance but prided with such undeniable beauty. Sometimes Rachel did not understand how someone so beautifully passionate could be so hostile. Unnoticed, Mercedes, Kurt, Mike, Matt, Tiny and Artie have managed to mingle into the room now and are absently listening to the conversation.

"You are judging her all wrong. You don't understand her. But I suppose that is something that should not surprise me. She is complex and you would know nothing about being complex, now, would you?" Rachel retorts with a taunting laugh, brushing her brunette hair away from her face and Noah snorts a laugh.

"Would you open your eyes, Berry? I mean, just fucking open them for fucks sakes! And stop living in a fantasy world. Quinn 'fuck me' Fabray was a Broadway failure. Who in their right mind would give up Broadway to come here and teach some out of control teenagers about singing? She _failed_. She may have had a nice voice but obviously, fame is not her business. She is a Lima Loser just like the rest of us and she will take it out on us that she is now a Lima loser, that she was so close to having her dream but lost it. You may think she is this amazing Goddess because she was on Broadway but in case you haven't noticed, she isn't exactly drawing in the audiences every night, is she? She crashed, she burned and now she is _nothing _but a bitter wash up. Accept it," Noah snaps and Rachel groans, grinding her teeth down hard. She opens her mouth to speak, but, however, the voice that comes out, is not her own.

"Alright. That is _enough_," It is the voice of Quinn Fabray that echoes from the doorway as she stands, leaning against it, papers in hand. Suddenly, as if stating something unmentionable, the room falls to a ceasing quiet, so quiet that the only sound that could be heard was the ticking of the clock. Studying the slender body in the doorway, the pained expression upon her face, Rachel Berry's heart shatters completely.

"Ms. Fabray, how long have you been standing there?" Noah asks, sheepishly looking down as he scratches his head absently. With a shaky breath, the blond shakes her head as she pushes herself forward, her eyes scanning the group of teenagers who have all managed to show up for rehearsal, despite their painful dislike for her.

"It doesn't matter. Because unlike the egotistical people that most of you are, I do not care if you like me or dislike me. I do not lay awake at night, crying because people don't care for me. I am not here to make friends, I am here to do my job. Just like all of you are here to do _your_ job. I do not care about your opinions or your thoughts of me. But I do suggest you keep them to yourselves, just like I keep my thoughts of about you to myself. It is the _professional_ thing to do," Quinn instructs, opening the manila folder as she shuffles through the papers.

"Aha! So you have been thinking about me! I knew you couldn't resist The Puck!" Noah laughs and Quinn snickers, turning around with a smile as she shakes her head.

"You are really just not used to girls saying no to you, are you, Noah? The ladies here in Lima must be _really_ desperate," Quinn quips with a laugh before she begins passing out the sheet music.

"So, it has been brought to my attention that Mr. Schuester likes for you to perform mostly contemporary music. With these mash ups and covers and whatever else he has you doing. He thinks that it will further your advancement in the competition, that it will get you noticed and perhaps he is right. But what Mr. Schuester fails to realize is that the advisers are not just looking for kids who can sing the Bieber fever but they are looking for kids who can sing _well_ and sing classy songs. Which is why one female and one male lead is going to sing this," Quinn explains, handing Rachel a sheet of the music with a smile before stepping back to observe the kids.

"Phantom of The Opera? Isn't that some lame ass Disney movie back in the 90's?" Noah questions, a bewildered look upon his face.

"Wow, Noah. I never pictured you as a Disney kid growing up. Please, enlighten me. Were you exposed to anything else besides the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse?" Quinn teases with a laugh.

"No, Noah. It is an opera about these two lovers. Raoul and Christine. But Christine is kidnapped one night by the Phantom as she is recalling stories of her late father because he has fallen in love with her after watching her many performances. He is upset about her love for Raoul and he wants her to be his bride for all eternity instead of Raoul's. He opens up to her while she is within his grasp as she awaits to be rescued by her great love Raoul and she soon realizes that the masked man who has always been known as the Opera Ghost is a genuine soul who has hidden his disfigured face for all of his life to avoid the stares and rude gestures. She loves him but she is not in love with him the same way that she is with Raoul. And in the end, he lets her go and be with Raoul because he loves her enough to want her to be happy, even if that means that she is happy with someone else. It is such a beautiful musical," Rachel swoons, thumbing through the music in her hands and Noah rolls his eyes as Quinn smiles at her.

"Seen it a few times, have you?" jokes Quinn.

"My dads took me to watch it on Broadway once and ever since then, I have been waiting for a love like that. I have the musical purchased and soundtrack on my Ipod. Andrew Lloyd Webber is a phenomenal composer," Rachel giggles with a smile and Quinn can only smile back at her, nodding her head as she glances at the papers in her hands.

"Right. Which is why you will be singing the role of Christine, Rachel. And the role of Raoul will be sung by... Finn," Quinn directs, her attention now turned to the football jock who sits beside of Rachel, cradling the wrinkled papers in his hands. Glancing up at the mentioning of his name, Finn stares at Quinn with wide eyes, shaking his head slightly.

"Oh no. No. This part is not meant for me. I-I mean my vocals. I can't.. I can't sing this song with Rachel. I.. um.." He forces a dry cough, "I'm sick and I would hate to ruin it for her." He fakes another cough again and to this Quinn forces a laugh at this. Sometimes she wonders how Will Schuester got anything accomplished in this group of overly prided teenagers.

"So sorry to hear that, hopefully you will get well soon enough to shamelessly flirt with Rachel after rehearsal even though she is clearly not interested," Quinn jabs, "how about you Noah?"

"What? Me? No. This is a chick opera. And while Puck does chicks, he does not do chick songs," Puck states, pushing his hands out in front of him. Rolling her eyes dramatically, her hand curves at her waist as she looks around the group who all just somehow magically manage to avoid eye contact with her. Sighing, Quinn's eyes scan the sheet of music before she looks up at Rachel with a smile.

"Looks like it is you and me, Berry. Let's show them how it is done," Quinn instructs, walking behind the marble piano as she sits down on the bench, her hands gently finding the keys that play the all too familiar tune. The brunette nervously walks over to the piano, glancing down at the music in front of her before adverting her attention to the instructor.

"Are you... are you sure you want to do this? This is a love song and I know that I have an open mind because my two dads are gay but..."

"Just sing, Berry," laughs Quinn, amused at the fact that such a diva actually cares about what people would think about her. As the room falls silent, her fingers press against the white keys, the beautiful melody flowing from her fingertips and echoing through the acoustic room. Almost majestically, her body moves with the melody, shifting and gliding through the notes before her eyes become fixated upon the brunette.

"No more talk of darkness, forget these wide-eyed fears. I'm here, nothing can harm you. My words will warm and calm you.," Quinn sings and when the words escape from her, the entire room is suddenly and very painfully awe struck at the beauty, at the sound of such depths and arrangements of notes, "Let me be your freedom. Let daylight dry your tears. I'm here, with you, beside you. To guard you and to guide you." She sings to Rachel, counting the soft swirls of innocence and wonderment in her eyes as her hands continue to move through the arrangement of notes.

"Say you love me every waking moment, turn my head with talk of summertime. Say you need me with you now and always. Promise me that all you say is true. That's all I ask of you," Rachel sings, her voice soaring through the melodic arrangement, disregarding the papers to the side as she focuses solely on Quinn.

"Let me be your shelter, let me be your light, you're safe, no one will find you, your fears are far behind you," serenades Quinn.

"All I want is freedom, a world with no more night And you, always beside me, to hold me and to hide me," Rachel sings, taking a careful step toward Quinn who is now shifting through another arrangement of powerful notes, her eyes perfectly fixated upon the brunette in front of her. The smile curls innocently upon her lips and she almost wonders if Rachel sees it until she sees the smile that is forming back.

"Then say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Let me lead you from your solitude, say you need me with you, here beside you. Anywhere you go, let me go too, that's all I ask of you," sings Quinn, closing her eyes for a moment as the notes flow through her.

"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime, say the word and I will follow you," Rachel smiles. Slowly, Quinn stands above the piano, her fingers still gliding and dancing across the keys before she hits the powerhouse of the harmony and their bodies, much like their voices, seem to almost collide.

"Share each day with me , each night, each morning," they harmonize.

"Say you love me," almost whispers Rachel as Quinn steps closer to her.

"You know I do,"

"Love me, that is all I ask of you," they blend their voices together one last time as Quinn moves through the last arrangement of notes and the music, like the time, seemingly manages to fall away. Through the silence and labored breathing of the two singers, they can only stare at one another, a soft, confident smile curling upon their faces. Suddenly a burst of applause echoes from their peers and the two of them can only share a short laugh, before Quinn shifts through the paper and Rachel returns back to her seat. Both painfully shrugging away the situation, the moment, the surging feeling, both too painfully naïve to ignore the chemistry that suddenly every one, including a jealous Finn, has noticed.

* * *

"Alright, so I will see you all here tomorrow. Same place, same time and be prepared to sing something classy. Finn, I suggest you take some Delsym for that cough. It will clear it up in twenty-four hours!" Quinn instructs as she dismisses the class. The teens grumble, each discussing the song, the performance and what is happening after the game tonight and for a moment, one single moment, Quinn almost misses it. She misses the innocence, the wonderment, the curiosity, the freedom of it all. She misses throwing caution to the wind, she misses the way that it feels to dream and not hold anything back, she misses the way that it feels to mean _something_, to believe in love even when love isn't present. For a moment, Quinn is almost jealous.

For a moment, she almost wishes she had never...

"Ms. Fabray," The voice of Rachel calls out to her and she turns around to find the brunette standing behind her, bag clutched under her shoulder. Quinn sighs, running her fingers through her hair before she turns her attention absently to the papers that are scattered around her.

"Are we making these after school specials a habit, Berry? Because you know this is high school and people do talk," Quinn retorts, flipping through the sheet music, placing the next musical number in the front of the manilla folder as she contemplates who should have the lead. Rachel studies her for a long moment, the way that her golden hair falls gently down her back, the way that her small shaped face is framed with all the lines that tell a story of where she has been and a story of where she is going; she is intrigued by her, by her story. She is not a Lima Loser, no, Rachel shakes her head, she is something by far much more.

"I really enjoyed singing with you today. You have amazing vocal depths and nobody could have carried that arrangement like you did. It is always a welcome surprise to have someone who can harmonize with me without me overshadowing them. So, thank you," Rachel exclaims and Quinn glances over at her, hazel eyes meeting a beautiful brown and she wrinkles her brow for a moment. Rachel Berry is the most complex creature that she has ever seen, this is truthfully so.

"Yeah. Sure. You're... welcome or whatever," Quinn replies, shaking her head in confusion before she closes the manila folder and reaches for her messenger bag to place it back inside. Sometimes she feels like she spends more time in McKinley High now than when she was actually a student, and sometimes, very much like now, she feels nostalgic about the freedom she once had. Because now she cannot do the things that she truly wants to.

"I have something that belongs to you," Rachel breaks the silence as she opens her own bag that has been nestled at her side. Shuffling inside, she pulls out the brimmed fedora, running her fingers along the edge of it as Quinn turns to face her. Glancing down, she notices the fedora in her hand and she smiles.

"You know.. I heard you today. With.. Santana and Puck..."

"Santana and Puck are two very egotistical, ignorant people who think that the entire universe revolves around them and if one person dares to challenge that... I am sorry that you had to hear that. I am sure that you are not a Lima Loser and you are _something_, they are just jealous that..." Rachel rambles on before Quinn laughs, placing her hands on her shoulders as she grasps her tightly, stopping her. Brown eyes find a delicate pair of hazel and instantly, for a split second, the world manages to cease around them.

"Stop. Stop. Don't apologize for them. I just... I wanted to say thank you. It was really nice that you stood up for me the way that you did, especially considering... nobody has ever done that for me before. Nobody has ever stood up for me or believed in me like that enough to protect me. And I know that I said that I didn't care about what they thought and I don't, I really don't because why should I care about what teenagers think about me, right?" Quinn pauses for a quick laugh, "but I just wanted to say thank you. It really... it means a lot to me." The blond smiles with a soft nod of her head before she releases the brunette, turns on her heels prepared to leave.

"Oh! Wait, Ms. Fabray!" Rachel calls out to her and Quinn stops, turning around with a soft smile, "You forgot this." Rachel states, reaching the fedora toward her. To this, the blond smiles with a quiet giggle, shaking her head as she bites her bottom lip. She takes the fedora from the brunette and places it atop of her head with a confident, beaming smile.

"No, you keep it. You look cuter in it than I ever would, away," Quinn smiles, running her fingers along the brim of the fedora before she pulls her hand away, "you take care, Berry." She winks before she turns, pushing the messenger's bag onto her shoulder and disappearing out the door. Rachel watches her for a moment until she disappears and then she lets out a breath of air and a wide smile spreads onto her face.

What is this feeling that aches in the pit of her stomach?

Well, she isn't entirely sure but she knows one thing for sure.

She certainly likes the feeling that Quinn Fabray leaves her with.


	5. Chapter Four: You Are More Than Enough

Black Keys

Beta: ForeverMartyr

**Tagline: **"A perfect rainbow never seemed so dull."

**Summary: **Love and Lust. Determination and Desire. Feelings and Sex. Student and Teacher. Right and Wrong. Those lines just keep blurring for Rachel Berry lately.

**Spoilers: **None, seeing as how this story is completely, painfully AU

**Rated: **Mature Audiences Only!

**Pairing: **Quinn/Rachel. Rachel/Finn

**Disclaimer: **All television shows, movies, books and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings and events thereof, are properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

**Author's Note:** So I know that it has been a while since I have updated and I am pretty sure that some will throw tomatoes at me but the good news is that there is only eight or so days left of my senior year. Which is sad but also at the same time, means that you will be getting more updates more quickly as the year closes. To make up for my absence, however, I made a long chapter that is full of Faberry goodness. I also would like to take this time to thank ForeverMartyr for not only beta-ing this for me but for being my best friend, my inspiration and my light in all the darkness in the world. You're awesome, pal. Anyways, please enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Four:** When Your Good Is _More_ Than Enough

It is lunchtime at McKinley High; a time that is generally every teenager's favorite time. A time to stuff their faces with fattened, carb-loaded food, a time to gossip about fashion and couples, a time to catch a sneaking smoke in the bathroom and tell a few crude and dirty jokes. A time that is set aside just for them; a time without English or science or math or history or any of the other core subjects; and it is also a time that Rachel Berry despises with a burning in the pit of her stomach passion. Especially because she is vegan and the school system only seems to care about 'beefing' up the football population and not caring about the other half. Although the school does always offer a salad bar for those who choose not to take the special, the brunette can only eat so many salads before the whole idea of green leafy lettuce and vegetables becomes lost on her completely.

Spotting a table near the window, Rachel approaches it, tray in hand as she eyes the variety of lettuce, tomato and other items that have been tossed around in her box salad of a lunch. Sometimes, she wishes school was already over. Groaning, she pulls out the chair and takes a seat, glancing absently over the cafeteria until she finds a familiar face sitting at the staff table with Emma Pillsbury and various other staff members. But sometimes, she smiles a grin as she bites her bottom lip before looking away; sometimes she wishes that moments like this could go on forever. There is something about Quinn Fabray that she does not understand. Something that she can not quite figure out about the complex being that she is. There is a past, a story, that she wants nothing more than to just understand.

But if there is one thing that she knows, it is that Quinn is not the bitch, she is not the monster that neither Puck nor Santana view her to be. She may be a no-nonsense type of woman, who has her eyes on what she wants, but she certainly is not cold nor is she heartless. For nearly two weeks now she has been guiding them through pitch changes, through choreographic moves that none of them would have ever thought would look as lovely as they did, through both contemporary and Broadway styled musical numbers, and pushed all of them in the exact way none of them never knew they needed. For weeks now, Quinn Fabray has been the one mystery that Rachel Berry can not seem to unravel.

Picking absently at the leaves of lettuce with her plastic fork, she is careful of her wandering eyes now as she watches Quinn, who is painfully in depth in a conversation with Emma. Today she is supporting a red shirt that cuts in a V-shape neckline directly onto her clavicle and a pair of black, Rachel squints, yes those are black skinny jeans. She almost hates it, she thinks, how even when she is wearing the outfits that would normally make her stomach churn in disgust, she still looks amazing. Placing a piece of the salad into her mouth, Rachel chews as she tries desperately to overhear the conversation in front of her. Quinn laughs at something that Emma has said, and for a split second, Rachel almost swears that her stomach is on fire.

"Hey Rachel," She knows the voice before she even has to look. She tears her eyes away from the staff table for what seems to be an eternity to her, to find Finn Hudson standing above her in his green plaid shirt and a dimpling smile upon his face. She doesn't understand his infatuation with her, especially when he has girls falling over him left and right these days since becoming a football superstar. She is _supposed_ to fall for him, she is _supposed_ to be with him, he is the one that she _should_ be with, and she knows all of these things. But knowing the way that things should be, and making them a reality, well, it was a concept that Rachel Berry never could quite make work for her.

"Hi Finn." Her response is short as she ends a half attempted smile in his direction, grabbing a few more pieces of her salad with her plastic utensil. For weeks now, at least ever since her solo with Ms. Fabray, Finn is showing up more and more at unusual places and unusual times with the same dorky grin upon his face and frankly, it is something that Rachel is growing more than accustomed to.

"Do you mind if I sit?" he asks as if he is almost afraid of her response. She runs her fingers through her curls as she smiles at him, shaking her head slightly. She knows people will talk; a football player having lunch with _her_? _Her_? Rachel "man hands" Berry? She knows people will talk but a wise person had once told her, not to care so much about what people thought about her but of what she thought about herself. The boy takes the unoccupied seat beside of the lovely diva; he studies her face for a moment before he turns his attention to his red plastic tray, undoing the top of his milk.

"You look nice," He smiles with a simple nod of his head and Rachel can feel the blush curling within her cheeks for a reason that she simply does not understand. There is something about compliments, even if they are coming from Finn Hudson that strikes something within her, something that causes her stomach to tighten and her cheeks to flush; perhaps it is the insecurity inside of her or maybe, just maybe it is something by far more than she will ever understand.

"T-thanks," She giggles with a beaming smile, sitting her plastic fork down onto her tray, her fingers slipping absently through her dark hair. He smiles at her, one of those genuine, dimple revealing smile and Rachel can not help but wonder why she doesn't feel it. She studies him as he takes several bites of the meat loaf in his tray; he is a very attractive male, with his dark brown eyes, it is obvious their children would be absolutely beautiful. He has a very nice voice, it sounds prefect in harmony with hers and he is athletic, so there is no danger of their children ever being any less than elegant or graceful. He has been sweet and persistent and honest with her always, but for some reason she just… does not feel anything for him. Not in the way she should. And not in the way she wants to, oh, how badly she wants to.

"So, I've been watching you," Finn states, taking a sip of his milk and Rachel shifts, uncomfortably.

"Oh, you have?"

"Oh God! Not like that! Not in the creepy old pervy way. Not like the kind of freak who sits outside of your window at night and watches you through the tree and follows you around collecting pieces of your hair and your trash. I'm not a psycho, I promise," Finn blushes with a smile and Rachel giggles. She forgets how funny Finn can be when he is not trying too hard to charm or swoon or romance her or when he is not too busy with his 'football buddies'.

"No one would ever imply that you are, Finn," Rachel giggles, wiping the corner of her mouth with the neatly folded napkin that lies absently in her lap. If having two gay dads has taught her anything, it is certainly that manners are the most exquisitely and genuine way to live life; and it does not hurt that it helps one seem more professional and established either, certainly not in Rachel's case.

"Anyways, I was just trying to say that you have a really nice voice. I notice the way that you are with Ms. Fabray," instantly Rachel freezes as she forces a hard laugh, "she seems to be challenging you. Vocally, I mean. It is nice to hear your vocal range sometimes. You tend to do flashy songs that get you noticed because you want people to notice you and I understand that, because you want to be a star, but Rachel..." he trails off and she listens intently.

"Rachel, people always notice you. They notice how beautiful you are, how talented you are, how nice and caring and polite you are. They notice _you_ because you are someone who is worth noticing. And you don't need some Wicked or Madonna or some other diva's flashy song to get people's attention. Because you already have it. I know that you get my attention the second you walk into the room. People notice you. They are interested in you. They care. _I_ care," Finn smiles, his pinky finger absently linking around Rachel's and the brunette, for some reason unbeknownst to her, cannot help but blush and smile.

* * *

A few tables away, Quinn Fabray fumbles with the top of her juice, her eyes practically glued to the bodies of Rachel Berry and Finn Hudson. They are two of her finer students, two of the most vocally talented and chemistry blessed people that she has met in all of her years on this earth. He is in love with her, everyone can see that in the way that he looks at her, the way that he acts around her, the way that he always wants her to be his partner in any duo song they are forced to sing. But what Quinn cannot for the life of her seem to figure out, is why Rachel isn't the least bit interested in the captain of the football team. After all, is that not every American teenage girl's dream?

A quiet giggle rumbles in the back of her throat as she finally pops the top of her tropical punch bottle. She forgets that Rachel Berry is not just _any_ American teenager. In fact, Rachel is about as far from the stereotypical suburban teenage female than any one could possibly get. She is confident, determined, unrelenting, passionate, beautiful, polite and very much aware of what she wants to do with her life and how to get to where she needs to be. She is talented, driven, and a self proclaimed "star", while she still has miles left to go before she reaches her destination, Quinn does not mind being a pit stop and a service station to help her on her way.

She has met people like Rachel before in her life, in her career. She has watched them strive with success, yet, she has also watched them crash and burn. She has witnessed the loss of many people like her as their crushed dreams become too much for them to handle or they have given up everything and _every one_ to achieve their dream, they do not know how to handle the pressure once they _actually _achieve it.

She worries about her, about her tunnel vision to her dream, but she also knows that it is not her place to worry about the intriguing individual who pushes her buttons in all the wrong ways. She is her _teacher_ and teachers _teach_, they do not _befriend_ or _care_. Yet she does. For some unknown reason, for some cosmic destiny that she is unsure of, Quinn Fabray cares about Rachel, she is intrigued, concerned, and interested.

Rachel Berry is nothing like she could have ever expected.

And she likes it that way.

"So, anyway, the kid comes into my office coated with the germs from the outside world and sits down and tells me this really sad story about his parents and how his sister died from leukemia and how his parents had him to save her life but he was not a match and how he has never felt wanted by them. And he blows his nose on a tissue, looks at it and crumbles it up and lays it on my desk. _My _desk!" Emma Pillsbury wails as she unzips her plastic bag and pulls out her home made peanut butter sandwich and takes a bite of it. Looking down with a quiet blush, Quinn realizes that she has not heard an entire word the woman has said because she had been too busy focusing on something else. _Someone_ else.

"What's the story with Rachel Berry?" asks Quinn rather bluntly and Emma almost chokes on her sandwich. Instantly, Quinn's hand goes onto her back as she beats between her shoulder blades until the cute and overly friendly woman takes in a breath of air; the two share a quick smile.

"Um, she hasn't done anything to offend you, has she? B-because Rachel tends to have that effect on people. Personally I think that it is a characteristic trait that she has learned to..." Quinn interrupts the babble.

"No. No. Nothing like that. She's been nothing but professional to me. I don't know, Rachel is just... interesting. She is not like all the others, she is like no one that I have ever met before. Even the people that I used to work with. So, I guess I am just asking because I am curious. She does not seem to have many friends here and I can not seem to understand why," Quinn asks and Emma smiles with a quick nod of her head as she takes another bite of her sandwich and quickly dabs the corners of her mouth before speaking.

"I have only known Rachel for the past year or so, so I am not one to pass judgment on her. For that you should seek someone who has known her longer than I. But from what I have noticed, Rachel is not the most... socially accepted student in our student body. It seems that people are put off by her strive for success and her dreams and her need for the spotlight. Rachel wants what Rachel wants and she seems to... not care that other people are in her way or want the same thing. For what she is blessed with academically and her vocal talents, she seems to be socially challenged. She has had many chances to excel among her peers but only seems focused on her dreams," Emma answers and Quinn nods, taking a sip of her juice.

"She's driven, yes, but that is nothing to be scolded for," Quinn states, her eyes wandering back to the brunette who seems to be getting quite chummy with the star of the football team. There is a catch inside of her, a burning sensation in the pit of her stomach and she literally has to bite her tongue.

"Maybe not but in high school it is a reason for ridicule. Rachel is the lead example of that, I am afraid," sighs Emma, taking another quick bite of her neatly created sandwich and the tears manage to fill in Quinn's eyes.

"Rachel is bullied?"

"Every one in Glee club is, from what I have noticed. But Rachel is their main target," Emma replies. Quinn sighs, licking her dry lips as she tangles her fingers in her blond locks, tugging just hard enough to create another pain besides the one that is no echoing in her heart.

"And Finn? What about Finn? He seems interested," Quinn points out and Emma watches the flirting couple with a pleased smile. A smile that makes Quinn unnoticeably sick to her stomach.

"He is definitely interested in Rachel. Finn Hudson has been in love with Rachel since like, the first grade from what I have learned. Always been the best friend but never the boyfriend. Always waiting for her after class and smiling and offering to carry her books. Every girl in school wants him. Every one that is, except for Rachel. And I can not seem to understand why. They would be perfect together," Emma swoons with a sigh and Quinn snaps.

"No, they _wouldn't_," snaps Quinn and Emma looks at her with wide eyes and confusion written upon her face. The blush quickly floods within the blond's cheeks as she bites the inside of her jaw to keep from cursing. What the hell did she just do?

* * *

"So, I was wondering..." Finn's voice wanders off as Rachel's eyes dart up to study his deep brown. She knew this had been what this entire lunch had been building up to; people with a social status like Finn do not just sit with her without wanting something in return. He is about to ask her out, she sucks in a hard breath, he is about to ask her out to a very nice dinner where he would be nothing but charming and she would be the luckiest girl in the entire world to be his girlfriend. He is about to ask her out and she is about to break his heart by rejecting him for a reason that even _she_ does not understand.

"Finn, don't do this. This has been a very nice lunch and we have had a really nice time together. I have had a nice time with you. I feel like this is the first time that we have talked in ages. As _friends_. Please don't go and ruin this by asking me out because you know that I will decline and I hate hurting you," Rachel interrupts him, her pinky sliding out from beneath his and instantly his eyes flicker with sadness at the loss of her soft touch.

"You just said it yourself, we had a really nice time together. We always have a really nice time together. You laugh, I laugh. I say something stupid and you tell me not to worry about it. We fit together, Rach. I am a football star, you are a singing star. I will play in the NFL and you will be rocking the world tours. I will follow you wherever you go and we will have our two little football playing boys and a ballerina little girl. We are _meant _to be together and you, and every one else in this school knows that," Finn exclaims and Rachel winces, looking down with a sigh. She hates moments like this, she really, _really_ hates them.

"If we were meant to be together, I would be in love with you. But I am not. You have been chasing me since I was six years old, there are girls in this school who would die for a guy like you, don't you think you should start chasing them?" Rachel sighs, standing with her tray but Finn only shakes his head.

"I don't want those girls. I _want_ you," Finn demands and Rachel leans down, kissing his temple.

"I'm sorry, Finn. But I just can't," She whispers before she walks away. Clutching tightly to her tray, she swallows the cry that is lodged in the back of her throat, batting away the tears that are now filling within her gorgeous brown eyes. She notices Quinn, who is more than _just_ noticing her. She freezes for a moment, their eyes locked together in the crowded lunch room and for a moment, a split nanosecond, Rachel almost feels like it is only the two of them, like she is the only girl in the world.

"Hey Berry! Get bent!" A boy calls out to her before a blue slushy flies into her face. Instantly, she shrieks as the food colored ice meets her oval face, dripping down onto her shirt and the lunch room falls eerily silent besides the laughter from the boy in the Letterman jacket. Soaking in blue ice, the tears flood in her eyes as she shares one last glance with Quinn, who seems shell shocked by the entire situation, before she sprints out of the cafeteria in a cry, her clattering tray the only sound echoing through the room.

* * *

The soft sound of the piano echoes from the music room, much like Quinn had expected. Although there is a lot about Rachel that she does not seem to understand, she understands the fact that the two of them are more similar, more painfully alike than any one would understand. The social awkwardness, the bullies, the insecurity. She experienced it all and continues to experience it every day. But the music helps. The soft rhythm of beats, the lyrics, the melody, the need to just drift away from reality. She understands that sometimes, music is the only thing that understands how you feel, that sometimes music is a better friend than an actual person.

She pushes the cracked door open silently as she stands, leaned against the doorway in the silence. The soft four beats rhythm moves against the piano as the song shifts from keys, the brunette's fingers carefully spaced upon the white keys. Her back is only slightly arched, a minimal imperfection and Quinn can't help but smile a little to herself when she sees it. As hard as she tries to be perfect, Rachel does not know how truly beautiful she is when she is not.

"Can I start again, with my fate shaken? Cause I can't go back and endure this. I just have to stay strong and face my mistakes but if I get stronger and wiser I'll get through this," Rachel sings before her fingers move more powerfully against the keys, "what can you do when your good isn't good enough and all that you touch tumbles down? My best intentions keep making a mess of things, just want to fix this somehow. How many times will it take, oh, how many times will take for me to get it right?"

How does she not see it? Quinn closes her eyes tightly to keep the burning tears from falling from her eyes. Despite all the high school drama, the slushy in the face, the bullies, and the people who just simply do not understand her, that she is more than this? More than all of this put together?

"So I throw up my fists, throw a punch in the air, and accept the truth that sometimes life isn't fair! Yeah I'll send down a wish, send up a prayer and finally someone will see how much I care! What can you do when your good isn't good enough and all that you touch tumbles down? My best intentions keep making a mess of things, just want to fix this somehow. How many times will it take, oh, how many times will take for me to get it right? To get it right..." Her fingers move across the keys once again before the music slowly fades away into the silence. Rachel sniffles and Quinn's heart shatters in a million more pieces.

"You know, it would sound better if you changed keys at the bridge of your song," Quinn's voice is the sound that breaks the silence and Rachel jumps, startled at the sound. She inhales deeply, a tiny hiccup coming from her as she turns around quickly to find the blond standing in the doorway. How stupid she must look, crying over a piano, she rolls her eyes inwardly to herself.

"Ms. Fabray. I am sorry. I know that we are not allowed to be in here unsupervised. Although I am not sure that I entirely understand that rule. Are they afraid that we will have sexual intercourse and repopulate? Because teenagers can do that anywhere and there really is nothing appealing about having intercourse in the music room or on any instrument in here. What a terrible story that would be to tell your kids about how they were conceived. On top of a piano, next to the electric guitar. Or maybe they are afraid we will break something and they will have to pay for it out of the funding they receive but only use to pay for their vacations but I think-"

"Relax, Rachel. Breathe. I am not here to scold you, I am just offering you some advice. But if you don't want to take it, I mean, it is your song after all," Quinn offers with a giggle but Rachel only watches her with a half turned smile. She has almost forgotten how beautiful the sound of laughter is until she hears it come from her.

"You called me Rachel," the brunette smiles and Quinn nods, slowly shuffling her feet closer to where the brunette sits, wide eyed and tear stained. The two of them are comfortable in the silence because the silence says more than the two of them ever would.

"We are more alike than what meets the eye, you and I. People do not see it, but we are. The bullying, the hurting, I get it. I do. You push it aside because you think it is easier, it is easier to sing about it and pretend like it doesn't exist than admit that it does. To admit that you are different than all the rest. Kids are mean, they are awful and they will not grow out of it like every one says they will. People will want to bring you down the rest of your life because you are different. Because you are _special_. And you are, Rachel. Amazingly so." Quinn smiles sadly at her and Rachel nods with another sniffle.

"It's just hard," sniffles Rachel and Quinn sighs.

"Life is hard. But you are a better person than them. You are special, Rachel. More so than anyone in McKinley High will ever be. More than I will ever be. And when life gets tough and kids get mean, you just have to hold your head high and think about that. Think about how special and beautiful you are and how these kids are just average. But you, Rachel Berry, are _extraordinary_," Quinn smiles at herand Rachel beams with glistening eyes. How preposterous the two of them must look to any one else, crying in silence over nothing, but to them, it is everything.

"Can I show you what I was talking about with your song?" smiles Quinn.

"Yes please," whispers Rachel in a raspy voice. The blond hovers behind her as she places her hand atop of Rachel's gently moving them across the keys, her front carefully brushing against her back. For a moment, her breath halts as her body meets with Rachel, their skin softly touching as they move against the white keys, playing back the melody. She is close. _So_ close.

"Rach," whispers Quinn and the brunette turns just slightly. Their eyes meet and for a moment, no words are said because no words are needed to explain the feelings, the emotion, the understanding, the passion that is all felt within that rushing moment. Gently her fingers slip through Rachel's hair, brushing a piece of slushy from the gorgeous locks and her fingertips carefully caress her face in the process.

"Your good is more than enough. You are _more_ than enough," Quinn whispers. Slowly their faces inch closer together as Rachel studies her face, her heart pounding in her chest. There is so much that she does not understand, so much that she can not make sense of, her blood is pulsing, her head is spinning but suddenly everything just seems... _right_.

"We should go. Someone could walk in and.."

"Yes. This is totally unprofessional. Besides I am sure that I can not avoid my English class any longer without a note explaining that I was in some dire emergency or that I was rescuing a kitten from a tree or some other heroic measurement. Um, t-thank you. For the help and for the..."

"It was no problem, really," Quinn smiles, pulling back as she runs her fingers through her hair. Rachel nods, biting her lip absently as she slowly stands, flicking her wrist in the uncomfortable silence. It is funny how things change, how in a few moments something so comfortable to her seems so awkward now.

"So, now are you going to make your dramatic exit and leave me here to ponder something like usual?" Rachel quips with a roll of her eyes but Quinn only shakes her head with a carefully placed smirk upon her lips. Rachel wonders if she feels the same thing, that rush, that pull of a thousand tiny strings that somehow keeps bringing their bodies closer and closer.

"No, actually. I'm not. You are. You are strong enough to make a dramatic exit, you _deserve_ a dramatic exit after everything that has happened today. So what you are going to do is throw your shoulders back, hold your head up high and walk out of here like the HBIC that I know you are in your heart and you are going to show the world that Rachel Berry is _extraordinary_ while they are and always will be ordinary," Quinn smiles, taking a seat on the piano bench and Rachel smiles that all too revealing smile that leaves Quinn breathless.

"I guess I'll be seeing you then?"

"I guess you will," Quinn nods and Rachel turns, tossing her hair over her shoulder and holding her head high as she tries to make a dramatic exit. She stumbles, but ever so gracefully of course, and Quinn hides the snicker in the back of her throat. Rachel looks back as she stands in the doorway, her eyes meeting with Quinn's one last time.

"I meant every word I said, you know? I did. You are extraordinary," Quinn smiles, "Now, get out of here and go to class, _Berry!" _Rachel smiles with a laugh before she disappears behind the door. As soon as her presence leaves the room, the smile fades from Quinn's face as she slams her hands down hard on the piano, the terrible out-of-key sound blasting from the marble object. She sniffles for a moment before she starts to cry, heaving for a breath as the tears spill effortlessly down her cheeks and the wails escape from her lips in heart wrenching cries.

What the hell is happening to her?

And why can she not seem to control herself around Rachel Berry?

Not only is it unprofessional but it is just _wrong_.

But nothing, oh, nothing has ever felt more _right_ than losing control with her.


	6. Chapter Five: Ever The Same

Black Keys

**Tagline: **"A perfect rainbow never seemed so dull."

**Summary: **Love and Lust. Determination and Desire. Feelings and Sex. Student and Teacher. Right and Wrong. Those lines just keep blurring for Rachel Berry lately.

**Spoilers: **None, seeing as how this story is completely, painfully AU

**Rated: **Mature Audiences Only!

**Pairing: **Quinn/Rachel. Rachel/Finn

**Disclaimer: **All television shows, movies, books and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings and events thereof, are properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

**Author's Note: **I know, I know. I deserve to have rocks thrown at me and to be shackled in front of the entire community but the truth is, my absence was a lack of inspiration. I did not want to write a chapter that was crap when I know that I had it in me to do better. So, I waited and waited and finally, one night, the idea came to me on how to work this fic out. And now that I know, I will _try_ (being the keyword here) to not allow so much time between updates. With that said, there's a lot of Faberry. A lot of fun. And a lot of secrets, so lets see who can figure them all out first!

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Chapter Five: Ever The Same

It is amazing how everything is so different, yet everything is still ever the same; it is as if time has stood still in William McKinley High. The same teachers, the same colors, the same cliques, the same short cheer leading uniforms and buffed football uniforms. The same over the top pep rallies, the same dances, the same clubs, the same undercooked processed food in the cafeteria. Nothing has changed, yet _everything _has changed.

Quinn Fabray is not the same gorgeous and bubbly person that she had been at sixteen years old; she is not the same person who walked the halls with her head held high of confidence and pride of who she is. She is not the same girl who was surrounded by friendly and familiar faces, nor does she any longer troll around with the quarter back of the football team on her arm simply as eye candy. Quinn is nothing like the person that she used to be, perhaps she had grown more mature or grown wiser, but somewhere along the way she lost her innocence of the world. And she knows exactly where.

She is an adult now; responsible for her group of kids, responsible for their well beings as well as paying her own bills and having enough food on the table for herself at night. She is no longer boasted with foolish and naïve pride, concerned with how people perceived her or how her strive for excellence did not seemingly make her the most likeable girl in the school. She is grown up now, older and wiser and more aware of the person that she _has to be_ instead of the person that she _wants to be_. To say that she does not miss it, is to say that the sky is not blue or the grass is not green. She is envious of the teenagers around her, of their innocence and freedom; they all have no idea how fast the world is waiting to rip that away from them.

As she walks down the hall, her infamous shoulder bag crossing over her chest and a handful of papers in her hands, she can not help but watch them. Interested, intrigued, envious, and reminiscent of when that used to be her. They have it all now; they may wish they were older so they could get away from their parents or get away from Lima, but they are so foolish not to realize that this is when they have it all. This is when they are allowed to dream and achieve and be something, be_ someone_ to someone else. They have no idea what the real world is like and she is so very glad that they do not.

Her eyes find a familiar face in the crowd and a smile curls upon her lips. It's Rachel. She stands by her locker, chatting incoherently with a group that consists of Mercedes, Artie, Tina and Kurt. She pauses, almost reluctantly, leaning against the painted lockers as she watches them, like an outsider to a group of which they do not belong. She does not know what it is about the brunette diva, about her annoying yet impressionable personality, about her profound voice or her given talent that makes her so surprisingly interesting. There is a mystery about her, something that Quinn can not quite figure out, something that plagues her thoughts at night when she cannot fall into a peaceful slumber.

There is something about Rachel Berry. Something that keeps her wanting to know more; and that something is literally going to drive her crazy.

The brunette says something that just misses her ears and the group erupts in quiet laughter; and creates a feeling inside of Quinn that she cannot quite explain. A warmth pulses through her veins and her stomach flutters like a dancing group of pterodactyls spreading their wings for their first flight. It is a rush of adrenaline, a rush of belonging, a sense of purpose and meaning. And it shakes her, to the core of everything that she has ever known. Suddenly, a pair of dark brown eyes find hers, across a crowded hallway and she smiles at her, softly biting on her bottom lip. Rachel smiles and Quinn shakes her head softly, a careful blush curling within her cheeks. The brunette waves carefully, the smile spreading on her face and Quinn nods her head, lifting a hand free to mimic the gesture.

"Q! Q Fabray!" A voice calls out to her and she does not even have to turn around to know to whom it belongs, because there is only one person that it _could_ belong to. She does not break her eye contact with Rachel until the brunette smiles softly before turning back to the group, and only then does she turn around. Standing before her, in her track suit best, is one of the very few people who actually make Quinn's stomach twist in annoyance and disgust.

"Sue." She spits the name out, almost like it is venomous. Her past with Sue Sylvester is one like most of the people in Lima; less than pleasant. Things had been slightly peaceful between them as she lead her _perfect_ group of Cheerios to state titles all until her senior year. That had been the year everything changed, for women. Quinn, whom had been the captain for two years relinquished her thrown and chose, instead of leading the Cheerios to another state title, to join the Glee club. She chose to channel her beautiful voice and skilled choreography skills to create a career for herself; yet, according to Sue, it had been a decision to destroy her legacy.

"I see you are back in Lima," The butch blond states, squinting her eyes as she gives the new teacher an once over. Quinn clears her throat, tugging at her black vest, readjusting it over her chest as her eyes vacate across the group of people.

"I am," replies Quinn, her steady eyes watching the group that includes Rachel. She is not in the mood for confrontations today, especially when that confrontation is with her less than favorite person. Sue laughs a chuckling laugh, crossing her arms over her red track suit, nodding her head victoriously.

"I knew you would come back to me, eventually. It is okay, Q. I accept your apology for your pathetic attempts to destroy my squad. And yes, I will allow you to shadow under the world's greatest cheer coach, with infinite titles and state championships but I promise you..." Sue pauses as she clamps her hand over Quinn's shoulder, "you will never be half the coach I am, Quinnie." At this the blond scoffs, rolling her eyes at the statement; as reassuring as it is that changes never take place, she wishes that Sue had been the one thing that did change.

"Fantastic. Seeing as how I'm _not_ here to be a dream killing, overbearing, push my dreams onto my squad and make their lives a living hell because I have no self esteem and only get a boost by pushing others down _pathetic_ cheer leading coach," Quinn snaps, craning her head to glare at the coach, "and for the record, I don't owe you an apology. I didn't quit the squad to destroy your career, I quit the squad to make something of myself besides some insecure woman whose football player husband leaves her when he knocks her up and she gains twenty pounds. I quit to make my life better, not make yours worse." It almost amuses Sue that someone has the nerve and the backbone to stand up to her, even if it isn't William McPerfect Hair.

"Yeah? And how did that work out for you?" Sue intrigues, stepping in front of the smaller blond as she taps her lips mischievously, "because it seems to be that you are back in Lima. Superstars don't belong in Lima. You were supposed to be a Broadway star, selling out shows left and right. But you're not. You're here. Doing what you do best. Being a Lima loser. Now, why is that if you left to 'better yourself'?"

"S-sometimes things just happen," Quinn's voice falters as she brushes a loose strand of her hair away from her face. Sue smirks her all too accomplished smirk as she tilts her head to the side with a nod and Quinn can only roll her eyes.

"Oh, but you are wrong, Quinnie. Things don't _just_ happen. Something happened, something made you leave New York City. And I am not sure what it is yet, but you can bet that I am going to find out. Nobody crosses Sue Sylvester and gets away with it. Sue Sylvester is not the one to mock. I will be watching you, Fabray. And just when you think that you are alone..." Sue knocks the papers from Quinn's hands and they scatter to the tiled floor with a boom, "I'll be there." She glares at Quinn one last time before she chuckles, turning on her heels as she places her sunglasses over her crow feet wrinkled eyes and begins to waltz down the hallway.

"Oh, hey Sue!" Quinn calls out and Sue turns around, lowering her sunglasses slightly and the blond smirks, "Jodie Foster called and she wants her 90's hair back. You know, The Panic Room was sooooo last millennium." And with that quip, the crowded hallways burst out in laughter and Sue glares one last slightly intimidating glare before disappearing around the corner.

Quinn groans, noticing the mess now on the floor of her scattered papers, lists, music sheets and other documents. She sighs, dropping her bag onto the floor before bending down on her knees, grabbing the manila folder that is covered in various doodles with a mumbling curse. She hates it, the way that nobody understands. The way they all view her as a failure, even her parents and her friends, they don't understand why she would just walk away from it, how she could just give up all her hopes and dreams. But mostly, she hates how people like Sue can use it to their advantage to get under her skin. She reaches carelessly for a sheet of music paper when she finds herself looking into the most beautiful pair of dark brown. _Rachel_.

"I know how it feels to be Sue'd. It's like, she verbally punched you in the goodies or she stepped on your favorite kitten, or she told you that Barbara Streisand was not absolutely perfect in Funny Girl! It is horrible! But Daddy always says that the world needs horrible people to prove to the special and amazing people how unique and amazing they are," Rachel exclaims, grabbing a few handfuls of the scattered mess of papers and documents. Quinn laughs playfully, shoving a few loose garments into the manila folder, licking her dry lips.

"You think I'm special, huh? Like it is a glass door, you can't walk through it, you idiot, kind of special? Or the eating crayons and paste kind of special?" Quinn teases but Rachel never laughs, instead, as she reaches her the papers, she grabs her hand softly.

"The kind of special that gives up her entire dream and comes back to Lima, Ohio, where people think that being talented at something other than athletics is something that deserves to be laughed at. And decide to teach a bunch of less than equally talented as me kids, even though they all have their problems that nobody talks about. The kind of special that buries herself away in her work and being the best person that she should be instead of opening up and let people see the person that she really is. The kind of special that is admirable and that is something that no-one, not even Sue can take away from you," Rachel explains, dropping her brow just slightly and Quinn smiles bashfully before shaking her head. She pulls her hand away, placing the papers back into the empty folder.

"You don't understand, Berry." Quinn states and Rachel shakes her head.

"I don't need to understand. It doesn't matter _why_ you left Broadway. All that matters what you have done since then. All that matters is that you are happy with where your life is at, that you are making a difference. And you are making a difference to a lot of people now, you are connecting to them more so than you ever did on Broadway. What made you leave does not matter, the point is you did. And it's for the best, at least for us," Rachel replies and Quinn shakes her head, standing as she shoves the folder into her bag, biting her bottom lip as the tears threaten to fill in her eyes.

"Of _course_ it matters why I left! It matters to the company, it matters to the show, it matters to my career, it matters to Sue, to every one who thinks that they can judge me for it. And it matters to _me! _You have got it all wrong, Berry. You think that I am this special, heroic person because I came back to Lima and that I am admirable and self sacrificing but that's not true. Once you and every one else finds out the truth, it will never be the same. And it's only a matter of time before Sue exposes it, or worse uses it as blackmail," Quinn chokes out a cry and Rachel only watches her with wide, worried eyes.

"I- I don't know..."

"You are right, you don't know. You don't know what the world is really like out there and I pray that you never have to find out the way that I did," Quinn sniffles, throwing the bag over her shoulder once more as she flips the blond curl away from her face and Rachel only studies her with a soft shake of her head. "Look, you should go to class. I will see you in Glee club, okay? And don't.. don't tell any one about this."

"I-I won't. I promise," Rachel stutters and Quinn smiles at her. She reaches forward, clasping her hand over Rachel's small shoulder, rubbing it slightly, biting her bottom lip as she keeps the cry held within. The two share a moment, a moment that does not necessarily need words or explanations before Quinn pulls back and disappears down the hallway. Rachel watches her, her brow wrinkled in confusion and curiosity, her pursed lips drawing in a long breath. There is something amiss with Quinn, something that haunts Rachel, something that leaves her curious, contemplative and worried about the gorgeous slender blonde.

"Hey Rachel," Finn approaches the brunette and Rachel shakes her head.

"Not now, Finn," Rachel dismisses with a flick of her wrist before she turns around and heads in the opposite direction, her mind racing as she tries to make sense of what just happened. She is, however, unaware of the glaring, love sick football player that she has left in her whirlwind path.

* * *

Quinn stands in the doorway of the music room, her eyes venturing across the room full of the singing group of teenagers and she is almost taken aback by them. Nowhere else would a group such as them communicate with each other than here. Nowhere else would two football players, two cheerleaders, an African American diva, a gay kid, a kid in a wheelchair, Asians and a petite girl with super star personality get along with each other, communicate with each other and work as one. They have something that she seemingly never had, they have each other. A group of racially, sexually and socially different teenagers who put their differences aside and work together to create the most beautiful thing in the world. Music.

Despite everything that has happened to her, music is still the one thing that keeps her together. Music is the one thing that gives her peace, that gives her security and answers, even in the darkest place. Music is the one thing that can help her drift away to a safe place, even when she is haunted in echoes of her past. And to her, there is nothing more beautiful or magical as music made by passionate artists who create the most harmonious melody.

Looking in, she makes eye contact with Puck who smirks with a quip of his head and she laughs with a roll of her eyes. With a heavy breath inward, she steps into the room and the conversation never seems to miss a beat with the group. She opens her bag, removing the manila folder, flipping through the sheets of paper before she finds the one she is looking for. Turning around, she looks over the group of kids, the smile spreading onto her lips; Kurt is busy discussing fashion with Mercedes, Santana is gossiping with Brittany, flicking her wrist in wild gestures, Artie is in the middle of a conversation with Puck, Tina with Mike, and Finn is far too busy gazing at Rachel to notice the world around him. Something inside of Quinn snaps, something rushes through her veins with the hottest fire, a fire like the pits of hell. How does the boy _not_ get the hint? With a growl in the back of her throat, she slams her hand down on the piano creating a _bang_ and silencing the crowd around her.

"Perhaps if you would pay attention for once in your menial life instead of gossiping about who wore what or debating if Teresa _did_ or _did not_ get a nose job this summer or how hot a chick is or whatever else your immaturely talking about, one could say what they have to say and get on with their lives," Quinn snaps, glaring at the silenced teenagers around her. They all dare not to speak; the room is still and silenced, so much so that you could almost hear a pin drop. And then... a snicker.

"Jeez, sounds like someone needs to get laid," snickers Puck, muffled under his hand. Quinn chuckles lightly, approaching the Mohawk hair-styled, tan and buff football player. Noticing his sudden draw of attention he has received, the boy looks up at her with a playful smirk. "I'm just saying. If you want a piece of the Puck, all you have to do is ask." He shrugs his shoulders and the teenagers all stifle a laugh, a few crude remarks echoing from one student to the other.

"And I'm _just_ saying that if you want to make a special trip to see Mr. Figgins every after school for the next week, keep it up, Noah!" Quinn replies in a snap and the boy instantly hushes with his crude joking and attitude. She slants her eyes at him, waiting for the next remark but when there is none, she nods her head accomplished at her victory over the self involved boy. Once again, she regains her position in front of the classroom, grabbing the sheet of paper from atop the piano.

"It has been brought to my attention that this group is _extremely_ self involved. Your friend, Puck here, just proved my point. Individuality is key in knowing who you are as a performer but allow me to let you in on a little secret. Performing is _not_ an individual art. Especially on Broadway. You are always sharing the stage with a partner or multiple partners. Now, I know Mr. Schue has worked with you with the comfort of multiple partners and working as a group but you need to work on your personalization and connections with your fellow performers and with your audience," Quinn explains, flicking the paper in her hands as she smirks over at the group, "That is why your challenge this week is duo performances."

"I pick Rachel!" Finn exclaims, holding his arm in the air and Quinn only chuckles with a quaint nod.

"I am sure you would like that, wouldn't you, Finn? In fact, I am sure you _all_ would like that. Except, that would defeat the purpose of this entire challenge. This challenge is for you to connect with people that you normally wouldn't connect with. This Glee club has it's cliques but we are stopping that today. I am picking your partners and you can whine and mop and be a baby about it all you want to, but I promise you I will not lose any sleep over it. I have made my decisions and they are final," Quinn begins, " I am posting the duos on the bulletin board, once you find who you are partnered with you may leave." She places the paper onto the bulletin board before returning to her position at the piano, shuffling through her papers and the teenagers take their cue and surround the board.

She smirks when she hears the grumbles and the curses coming from the heard of teenagers around the single sheet of paper. She knows these pairings are not the kind they had been hoping for; but sometimes, pushing someone out of their comfort zone is where they find their best success. And this club is comfortable. _Too_ comfortable. They can not afford comfortable at competitions and they can not afford comfortable if they plan on following their big dreams to Broadway. They may hate her now, but this is for the best and someday they may soon realize that.

Mercedes with Mike.

Brittany with Finn.

Puck with Santana.

Kurt with Tina.

Rachel with Matt.

Not exactly the pairings every one had been hoping for, but pairings that, none the less, will create success and melodic accomplishments. She flips through her various papers in her folder, singing softly to herself a few words to the sheet music that she has just passed when a clearing of a throat catches her off guard.

"I have a problem with my partner," It's Rachel. She smiles to herself, of course Berry would be the one person to think that she is an exception to the rule. It is her confidence that sets Rachel apart from all the others in this club, but it is also that confidence that will be her downfall if she does not learn to control it properly. That is something that Quinn Fabray learned all to well during her time in the city of lights.

"Despite your exceptional vocal range, Berry, you are not an exception to the rule of no changes," Quinn states, shuffling the papers in her hand before taking a seat on the piano bench.

"First of all, thank you for noticing my exceptional ability. I am always profound when others who are amazingly talented, like yourself, acknowledge my own vocal abilities. But that is not why I am mentioning this to you. According to your table, you have me paired with Matt. And normally, I would not even mention it because Rachel Berry is a star and a star can shine no matter who or what is standing in her way but seeing as how this is a duo challenge and this would hinder my performance if I did not mention it to you. Matt is no longer a student here at McKinley High. His parents got relocated to Nebraska. What is in Nebraska, I have no idea. Always seemed like a dead beat state to me, only good for tornadoes and..."

"Take a breath, Berry. We all know you have good lungs but after a while, that all just begins to sound like one big run on sentence," Quinn interrupts her, sitting the sheet music into the holder and Rachel blushes with a giggle; one that puts a little extra skip into Quinn's heart and creates a flickering smile onto her face.

"Right. Sorry. Anyways, I just wanted to mention that I no longer have a partner. Now, I do not mind to perform solo this week, since we all know that I can harmonize with any one in this group. In fact, I will gladly take one for the team," Rachel explains and Quinn laughs to herself. Softly, her fingers press against the keys to create a familiar melody before glancing up at the brunette.

"No, you can not perform solo. I guess, since your partner is no longer here, you have to sit this one out. I'm sorry," Quinn apologizes with a soft smile before returning her attention back to her fingers that move against the ivory keys. Rachel furies her brow in a pout with a soft shake of her head before she moves eloquently around the piano and takes a seat on the bench, next to Quinn.

"Or _we_ could perform together," intrigues Rachel in a hopeful tone. Quickly, Quinn's eyes dart up from the ivory keys to study the younger girl's and the brunette smiles, "I mean, just think about it. You and I already know that we can harmonize together. Your vocal range is astounding and my own is quite exceptional, even if I must say so myself. We can show them how it is really done and how amazing a duo performance can really sound if you put your heart and soul into it. Come on, Ms. Fabray, you know it is a good idea." Quinn licks her lips carefully with a smile and a soft shake of her head.

"I don't know, Berry. People are eventually going to start talking about us. You do spend an excessive amount of time with me, more so than the other students. They are going to accuse me of playing favorites," The blond excuses and Rachel presses a few keys of her own to create her own harmony to the keys that she was pressing.

"I prefer to think that people chose to talk about me because they are insecure about their own selves and they know that they will never possess such confidence and pride as I do. People have talked about me for as long as I could remember; first it was why I had two dads and then later on, about other things. They call me man hands or treasure trial or dwarf," Rachel laughs bitterly, pressing a few keys before she looks up at Quinn, "I choose not to care about what people think of me but what I think of myself. I think I am an amazing performer and you are an astounding performer as well and once we pair up, we could be unstoppable at this challenge. We are better together. And I think you know that." A pair of hazel eyes look up from under their long eyelashes and look into the most beautiful pair of chocolate brown.

And in that second, like all the times before, they are suddenly no longer a teacher and a student. But they are Rachel and Quinn; two very talented women in a very familiar boat.

"Three fifteen tomorrow. Meet me here. I'll have a song for us," replies Quinn and Rachel nods in a bright, beaming grin. She throws her arms around the instructor in a tight, almost bone crunching hug before she jumps up from the piano bench.

"I can not wait to see what piece you choose, I am sure it will be brilliant!" squeals Rachel and Quinn laughs with a nod before returning her attention to the piano. Rachel smiles, turning on her heels to walk out of the classroom but something stops her, just like all the times before. She turns around, brushing a strand of hair away from her face and she is astounded by the beauty that sits before her.

"Ms. Fabray?" Rachel states and Quinn looks up over the piano at the girl.

"I'm not just a student, you know? I'm your friend. Even if you think that goes against all protocol and that is something that is completely unprofessional. Whether you are my friend or not. I am yours. And I care about you. A lot. And the past is the past, it can't hurt you anymore. So whatever happened, happened. It doesn't matter why you are here but you are here _now_. Now is what you can change, now is what you have control over. And I just wanted you to know that no matter how much you try to push me away or you try to excuse yourself from actually opening up to me, I'm going to be here. I am not going _anywhere_. I belong here. With you. And maybe eventually, you will realize that you belong here too," Rachel states with a bashful smile before turning and walking out the door and leaving Quinn to ponder everything that she has just said. As she pushes the keys to create the music written on the sheet, she finds herself smiling for reasons that even she does not know.

Because suddenly, it is as if every string that had once tied Quinn Fabray to something in the past is snapped apart. It is like a thousand strings are suddenly linked between her and Rachel Berry, always pulling her closer, always finding her way back to her. No matter how hard she fought it.

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Reviews are a nice welcome. :)


	7. Chapter Six: I Was Enchanted To Meet You

Black Keys

**Tagline: **"A perfect rainbow never seemed so dull."

**Summary: **Love and Lust. Determination and Desire. Feelings and Sex. Student and Teacher. Right and Wrong. Those lines just keep blurring for Rachel Berry lately.

**Spoilers: **None, seeing as how this story is completely, painfully AU

**Rated: **Mature Audiences Only!

**Pairing: **Quinn/Rachel. Rachel/Finn

**Disclaimer: **All television shows, movies, books and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings and events thereof, are properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

**Author's Note:** My beta is currently away in France doing a nanny job so all mistakes are my own. I tried to edit it on my own but I know that four eyes are better than two, so I apologize in advance for them. But, I did update rather quickly this time so you should be proud! :) And it is a story changer of a chapter so please enjoy!

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Chapter Six: I Was Enchanted To Meet You

A proverb once said: "Patience is waiting. Not passively waiting. That is laziness. But to keep going when the going is hard and slow - that is patience." However, patience is something that most individuals find themselves lacking during trying times; during crises or arguments or working on frustrating projects. Most people find themselves with a lack of patience after a _very_ long, trying and testing day; a day where every one who is seemingly alive is annoying just because they are breathing the same air.

Rachel Berry has always been the keeper of patience; she has always been the one to keep her temper in check and keep her emotions bottled inside during hard times. She has always been the one who kept coming back to the things that she wanted, who waited because good things came to those who wait. After all, Rachel Berry had been the one who waited for days to be one of the firsts to buy tickets for Wicked Across America.

Yet, today is _not_ the day that Rachel is either patient or humble. Today is lasting forever, the classes are seemingly longer and more boring than usual; even Music History, an elective that she more than enjoys on normal days, is one that annoys her with its untimely length today. She almost swears that the instructor had even been talking in slower decibels today.

However, after a long and very _testing_ day, it has finally came down to the last period of classes at McKinley High; and as the clock on the wall ticks away their childhood and innocence, the students are growing restless at their desks. _Especially_ Rachel. She sits at her desk nearest to the wall, tapping her pen rapidly against the blank sheet of notebook paper opened in front of her. She squints her brow against the beaming sunlight that cascades through the dingy window beside of her, trying desperately to count how many minutes and seconds she will remain in her English course. Thirteen minutes. Seven hundred eighty seconds. Seven hundred eight seconds until the school day is officially over and rehearsals for duet challenge week begins. A rehearsal with _Quinn._ A duet with _Quinn_.

Quinn... she is not like every one else, Rachel nods quietly to herself deep in her own thoughts. She is not like Mr. Schue who tried to be their friend and she is not like the other teachers who force their way through their subjects almost dread-like because they _have_ to and are cynical because it infers with their personal life. She is not like Sue who runs her cheer leading squad the same way that Hitler ran the Jews and she is not like Ken Tanka who runs the football team like an oversized burn out of an uncle. She is professional, mysterious, strong, solemn, and very beautiful. Very, _very_ beautiful.

Perhaps, Quinn Fabray is the missing key to her destiny. The missing key to her stardom on Broadway, the missing key to finding out who she truly is. Perhaps she is not the hard headed, diva fit of a Lima Loser that people perceive her as, perhaps she is not just some musical replacement for Mr. Schuester who demands that things go her way or no way at all, perhaps she is not the cold hearted bitch that Santana and Puck are all convinced that she is. Perhaps she is more. So much more than any of them will ever be able to comprehend.

Quinn Fabray is more than ordinary and beyond extraordinary.

"Now that we have finished this novel, I am going to do something for you that I don't normally do for my classes. Instead of giving you an exam like I do every year when my students finishing reading, I am going to allow you to write a paper. It must be in MLA format with the proper citations and footnotes where allowed. In this paper, I expect to find your meaning to the plot of this novel, the various conflicts found through out the chapters, to see pivotal characters and their portrayal and how they further the action in the novel, the true meaning behind the story. But most of all, I expect to see your paper on my desk next Thursday, a five page minimum and no font larger than Arial 12!" Mrs. Lorraine states, writing the dead line on her dry erase board that hangs just behind her desk. The tall woman flips her blazing red hair over her shoulder as her eyes scan over the group of teenagers who scribble the important details in their notebooks and binders. Her eyes slant behind her glasses as she licks her dry lips, a playful grin playing at her lips.

"And because I am just so gracious to all of you, I am allowing you to work in groups. Or you can choose to work by yourself. Whichever method is easiest for you. _But_ if you choose to work in partners, do not think that there will be just one paper and I will accept it with both of your names on it because I will not. I do expect papers from both partners with very little similarity! This is sixty percent of your final grade so I will be reading this with a fine tooth comb. I suggest you do your best, and if you do not know about the novel, then I suggest it is time you learn." Mrs. Lorraine exclaims, pulling out her chair as she takes a seat behind her desk, gathering the stack of papers within her hands once more. Rachel immediately begins to plot and diagram the three main points of her paper, listing both major and minor characters of the story and their relation with one another. Her concentration is one that cannot be broken, not even by the shifting of the table as someone takes a seat next to her.

"Hi Rachel," Finn smiles at the brunette, dropping his backpack onto the floor. Her eyes flicker up from the lined paper as she glances at him, giving him an once over. If there is one thing that she must say about the star quarter back of the football team, it is that he is certainly persistent. His ability to never give up is one that would usually sway the musical beauty, but lately, it has done nothing but annoy her.

"Hello, Finn. How are you?" asks Rachel, making polite conversation as she returns her attention back to the pre-writing diagram she has assembled on the paper in front of her. The boy beams in a radiant smile as he pulls the red notebook from his large backpack, along with the novel, which is seemingly shredded at the edges due to damages. As he arranges his work station on the desk beside of her, his wandering deep eyes find their way to Rachel and his heart almost soars; he cannot remember the exact moment he fell in love with Rachel Berry, but he knows that eventually, someday, she will be in love with him too.

"I am great. This assignment is killer. Especially since we have a game on Friday. We play against the Hawks. They have beat us every year, no matter if it is a home or away game. Coach thinks that this year is the year that we can beat them, with me running quarter back, of course," Finn beams proudly, but he receives no response or even a look of interest from the concentrated girl next to him, "Will I see you there? You might be my good luck charm." She looks up from her paper and finds him smiling his infamous dimpling grin at her, with a soft bat of his long eyelashes; no wonder girls are all smitten with him.

"Did you know that luck entered the English language as a gambling term? Personally, I do not think that luck exists. I think that it is just some excuse that people create for themselves. It is all a figment of their mind. I think if anything, luck is a self fulling prophecy. You do not need _me_ to be your good luck charm, you just need to believe in yourself. People who believe in good luck are more likely to be successful, you know? Because they are more optimistic and more satisfied with themselves and their lives. Another person cannot influence luck but only the person their selves can," Rachel states, shifting her weight uncomfortably as she scribbles in her notebook and Finn sighs, slumping his shoulders slightly.

"Right. But it would mean a lot to me if you came," He nudges her softly and she sighs in frustration.

"Finn, this paper is due next Thursday and it is sixty percent of our final grade. That means that there is no room to make an error in this paper. All the citations have to be correct, the points must be excellent and grammar must be astounding. I do not have the time to sit on some rusty and unstable bleachers and watch boys run around and knock each other down after a rubber ball. It is silly and barbaric," Rachel dismisses, shaking her head slightly, continuously working on the diagram before her. The football player groans in annoyance, grabbing his pen from his pocket in attempts to write something but he stops.

"Would you like to work together on this? I don't really understand it," Finn states in a hopeful breath, his eyes glancing over at the brunette. Rachel stops writing, sitting her pen down as she looks at the boy, biting her bottom lip carefully.

"What is not to understand, Finn? Les Miserables is one of the oldest and most amazing novels in Literary existence. It was published in 1862 in France, written by Victor Hugo. A little known fact about Hugo, he also wrote Norte-Dame de Paris which translates into The Hunchback of Norte-Dame. He was born in 1802 and he is mostly known for his Romanticism in the Literary Movement," Rachel begins and Finn nods with a soft smile.

"Yeah, I got all of that from the pamphlet Mrs. Lorraine gave us. What I meant was, I am not so sure that I understand the book. There's just too much," Finn explains and Rachel nods quaintly to herself; she is not sure if he does not understand it, or if this is simply a plot to spend more time with her. If it is, it is working, even if she does not want it to.

"I agree this novel is far too lengthy. Three hundred and sixty five chapters is too much for any one to comprehend during one period of time. Luckily, my dads took me to see the show on Broadway, so it allows me to better understand the material. The main thread of this story is about ex convict Jean Valjean. I know, so creative, right? Anyways, he is sent out to be a force of good in the world but he cannot escape his dark past. During his road to redemption, he examines the law of nature and grace, learns about the history of France, religion, philosophy, justice, the architecture of Paris and all types of love. It is split into five volumes. Fatine, Cosette, Marius, St. Denis and Jean Valjean." Rachel explains, and suddenly the bell rings. Like dogs to a trained whistle, the students quickly stand, grabbing their materials as they race home for the day. Rachel stands in the same matter, closing her notebook and preparing to leave before a hand wraps around her wrist.

"Could you explain the major and minor characters to me?" asks Finn, his eyes wide with hope and Rachel laughs slightly to herself, placing the notebook within her bag as she shuts it.

"I'm sorry. I would like to but I have other plans. I have an appointment that I really cannot be late to," The brunette excuses, pulling her hand away from the quarter back as she places the bag on her shoulder. Finn quickly stands, placing himself in front of her with a long bat of his eyelashes; that trick is starting to get a little old, Rachel groans inwardly. She wonders if he will ever realize that she is not like the others.

"It won't take longer than a few minutes. I really need you. _Please_," The football player pleads and Rachel sighs, running her fingers through her brunette hair. He looks at her sadly, his bottom lip protruding only slightly as he shrugs, "but if you gotta go, you gotta go. I'll understand." He sighs sadly, kicking absently at a speck of dirt that just misses her eyes. She sighs in annoyance with a soft roll of her eyes.

A few more minutes couldn't hurt, right?

* * *

Little did she know, those few more minutes turned into another half hour of sitting there, explaining the character and their motives and other menial but significant details that he managed to miss throughout the novel. As she bid him a chaste farewell, she cursed slightly to herself. Now, Rachel Berry is not the one to curse, after all, she is quite the lady, but given the day she has had, she is sure that most people would not only just be cursing at the wind because of it.

She is in such a hurry, she does not even make the attempt to stop at her locker and empty the needed essentials out of her locker and into her bag. Instead, she forgets about the exam she has tomorrow in foreign language and races to the music room as quickly as her tiny feet will carry her. She is late and she is a stickler for punctuality; professionals are punctual, those who are not do not achieve the same success. And now she is late because of a boy. A boy that she does not even necessarily like or even want to be romantically involved with.

Quickly, she pushes open the door to the music room in another mumbling curse and instantly her eyes find Ms. Fabray, who sits idly on the piano bench, her fingers softly pressing a few keys to create a soft melody. She does not know why but she is surprised to see that she has waited; that she has waited for _her._ She sighs a breath of relief, shuffling herself inside of the room and once Quinn's eyes land upon her, the music ceases. There is no sound but the rattling of the rustic air conditioner located somewhere behind the tiles above them. It is a silence that is eerie and haunting, a silence that allows Rachel to know that nothing good can follow it.

Instead of saying anything, however, Quinn merely watches the girl as she shuffles to her seat, dropping her bag into the plastic and non cushioned chair. She is fumbling with something that the blond can only assume to be her shirt before she turns around, a careful rake of her nails through her brunette hair. Quinn slants her eyes in annoyance before she clears her throat, pressing a key that echoes through the silenced room.

"Do you know what being late makes people perceive you as? Someone who does not care. If you are late, then you do not care about the event or the person to show up on time, you are not interested. Do you know what would happen if you were ever late to an audition? They would not even take the time to see you because you were not there on the time you were scheduled to, they would think that you are some diva who is not interested in anything but making an appearance and having all the attention on her. Do you know what happens when you are late to a show on Broadway? They find someone else who can sing your part, it does not matter what time you show up once you are late, or what excuse you may have because you are instantly cut. Just like that. No warning, no anything. Clearly, you had something else to do that was more important than rehearsal, even though you practically begged me to sing with you and do you know how that makes you look? Like a diva," Quinn exclaims, dropping her shoulder slightly, "and maybe you are."

"No," Rachel speaks up in a hushed whisper. Upon hearing the blond's accusation of her, it feels as if a knife has been stuck into her chest and twisted back and forth, creating the stabbing, sharp pain time and time again. After all their conversations, after everything they have been through, how could she think so little of her.

"It is not like that. We ere assigned to do a paper over Les Miserables in English today and Finn... he... he didn't understand so he asked me to help him and..."

"Oh, so you blew me off to tutor your boyfriend? Wow. You know what, Berry, I thought you were different. I thought you were different than all the boy crazed teenagers in this place because I thought you had determination and you had passion for what you do. You know what you want and you don't let anything stand in your way. But the first time that Finn Hudson bats his freakishly long eyelashes at you, you forget all about your responsibilities. If you cared more about being with your boyfriend than rehearsing with me, then go. Because I am not interested in helping someone who blows me off at the first boy who looks her way," Quinn snaps, standing from the pew as she grabs the music sheets in her hand and Rachel shakes her head, taking a hard step forward as she locks her jaw tightly.

"You know that is not it. Finn... Finn has liked me forever. Literally, I do not remember one point in our high school existence when he was not trying to prove to me that he is the one for me. And I know that I should like him, I _know_ that I should. Because he is tall and handsome and sweet and perfect. Except I... I don't. And maybe I am foolish and naïve and maybe he really is the one for me. But I don't have my mind on silly little high school flings right now. I have my mind set on New York. On Broadway. On you. And _that_ is what I want," Rachel exclaims, her eyes locking hard with Quinn's and she takes another powerful step forward.

"I am sorry that I kept you waiting. I am. Normally I am very punctual and I am always on time or early for my appointments. I know that it is very important to make a positive appearance and prove to others that I am willing to be there whenever they need or call for me, even if that is hours before hand. I was simply trying to be a good Samaritan, trying to be a good friend. But I promise, it will not happen again."

"Not even if there is a kitten in a tree who needs saving or if Barbra Streisand is being bullied by Sue Sylvester?" Quinn offers with a slight raise of her eyebrow and the tiniest of a playful laugh. Rachel shrugs her shoulders with a shake of her head, fighting the smile that tries to play upon her lips.

"No. Appearances are important. Besides, that is what fireman and her body guard are for," Rachel replies with a gesture of her body, "Also, I am not the best skilled to climb a tree or tackle down Sue Sylvester. At least, not in this outfit." To this, Quinn giggles a soft laugh with a nod of her head, shifting her weight awkwardly to lean back against the piano, studying the brunette's face.

"I am not doing this to be difficult, you know? I am not doing this to be mean or unreasonable. In fact, I think it is really amazing that you are such a good friend, especially the fact that you are friends with the boy who is very in love with you. But not everybody is going to care about your excuses. Not every one is going to be as understanding as I am. If you are late, then you are late. If you are late, then you have better things to do than your job or what is asked of you. People are not patient, but I, however, am not one to condemn you for being human," states Quinn with a shake of her head, the warm smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Rachel lets out a brief sigh of relief, absently wiping her sweaty palms onto her outfit.

"Does that mean that we can still rehearse?" Rachel asks, bashfully dropping her head and Quinn slants her eyes in playful thought, tapping her fingers against the piano. Despite anything and everything, despite the various amounts of miles and space she tries to put between herself and the brunette diva, there is always something that just keeps pulling her back; some unexplainable force that radiates her to the core.

"What happened to the very forward Berry I saw yesterday? The one who held her head up high and told me that I _belonged _here and that she was my friend? Now you are reverted back to this shy, timid little student who looks like she is afraid I will bite her head off," Quinn jokes, looking up at the girl, "you don't have to worry, Berry. I am a vegetarian. I will not bite your head off. Besides, I do not think that would be very professional of me to go all Hannibal on my student." The blond aimlessly rambles as she searches for the extra copy of the sheet music, lost somewhere in the folder. Rachel studies her backside, biting her bottom lip absently. There are so many missing pieces to the beautiful puzzle of Quinn Fabray and she wishes, oh, how she wishes, she could figure them all out.

"Why do you do it?" mumbles Rachel and Quinn turns around to her, her golden brow wrinkled in confusion.

"Do what?"

"You never let anyone in. You have this constant wall up and I can't really figure it out. Most teachers here... they are either your worst enemy or they try to be your best friend. But you... you keep this constant guard up all the time. I have seen you let it down with me a few times and you have such a beautiful personality. People here would... they would be nicer to you if you were not always so strictly professional all the time. Noah and Santana... I am sure they would give you a break if you opened up a little. But you are always on guard, from us and from the world. And I just want to know, why? What could have happened that was so bad that you shut yourself off from the rest of the world?" Rachel intrigues and for a moment, Quinn is left breathless. The tears burn in the corner of her eyes as the snowball sized lump rises in her throat; quickly, she turns around to hide the vulnerability from the younger girl, clearing her throat.

"I suppose the same reason that you do not know how to mind your own business. I am your teacher, Berry. I am not here to be your older sister or your best bud," for this, she uses air quotations with a forced laugh, "I am not here to hold your hand or dry your tears or go on shopping sprees with you. I am here to prepare you for the world and the truth is, the world is not always going to be your best friend. Not everybody is going to like you and want to sit up all night eating Coco Puffs and watch every romantic comedy with Freddie Prince Jr in them."

"Who?" echoes Rachel in a questioning tone and Quinn groans.

"Never mind. Are we going to rehearse or not?" The blond sighs, flicking the papers forward and Rachel nods her head apologetically, taking the various music sheets within her hands. Quinn wastes no time, as quick as the papers are handed off, she is already sitting down at the piano bench and placing the sheet music in front of her. She is prepared to play, that is, however, not without another insert of thought from the brunette who is absently shifting her weight.

"Really? This song? Not that I have anything against this song because these lyrics really do seem to be beautiful and tell a story of this epic love and a fairy tale and all the stuff that every girl dreams about. But, this artist is so... I don't know. I am very open to expressing feelings in a song, after all that is where artists get their inspiration from, right? Their lives. But all she chooses to sing about is boys that either break her heart or are her Prince Charming for the week. I don't think that is _exactly_ the image we want to give ourselves, is it?" Rachel quips and Quinn forces a hard laugh, raking her nails through her golden mane as she glares up at her.

"Perhaps not. But this song is. Maybe if you actually read them instead of passing judgment on them, you would understand _why_ I chose this song for us. Just listen to the lyrics, Berry, instead of just singing them," Quinn instructs and the brunette sighs in annoyance with a complacent nod of her head, leaning against the piano.

As soon as the hushed silence once again falls over the musical room, Quinn's long and slender fingers begin to move over the white ivory keys. As the familiar rhythm echoes in her ears, she softly begins to sway slightly back and forth, gnawing absently on her bottom lip as she desperately tries to fight away the nerves.

"There I was again tonight, forcing laughter, faking smiles. Same old tired, lonely place. Walls of insecurity, shifting eyes and vacancy, vanished when I saw your face," Quinn sings softly, looking up at Rachel from the keys that move beneath her fingers, "all I can say is I was enchanted to meet you."

"Your eyes whispered "have we met", across the room your silhouette starts to make its way to me. Counter all your quick remarks, like passing notes in secrecy," Rachel sings, clinching the sheets of paper in her hands as she looks at Quinn, "All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you." Then the chorus kicks in with loud and quick jams of the piano keys and suddenly, they cannot take their eyes off each other.

"This night is sparkling, don't you let it go. I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home. I'll spend forever, wondering if you knew, I was enchanted to meet you," The girls sing in unison and Rachel is suddenly beaming a bright grin as she inches closer to the golden blond, who licks her dry lips as the music softly begins to lull.

"The lingering question kept me up, 2am who do you love? I wonder till I am wide awake," sings Quinn.

"And now I am pacing back and forth, wishing you were at my door. I'd open it up and you would say it was enchanting to meet you. All I know is it was enchanting to meet you," Rachel smiles, moving her body with the music, instead of against it; unable to divert her attention to anything except for the gorgeous blond in the room and suddenly, she just cannot stop smiling.

"This night is sparkling, don't you let it go. I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home. I'll spend forever, wondering if you knew, I was enchanted to meet you," They both harmonize together, allowing the music to move through their pulsing blood stream. Suddenly, the bridge catches them both off guard as Quinn jumps to her feet, kicking the piano bench away as her fingers move like clock work against the keys, her eyes not even bothering to venture downward.

"This is me praying that this is the very first page, not where the storyline ends. My thoughts will echo your name until I see you again. These are the words I held back as I was leaving too soon. I was enchanted to meet you," Quinn sings loudly with a soft shake of her head, her body swaying with the quickening pace of the song.

"Please don't be in love with someone else, please don't have somebody waiting on you," whispers Rachel in a lyrical melody.

"Please don't be in love with someone else, please don't have somebody waiting on you. This night is sparkling don't you let it go. I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home. I'll spend forever wondering if you knew," The blond serenades, moving closer to Rachel, who herself, is erasing the space between the two of them; their eyes intensely locked together like a force that is unable to be moved.

"This night is flawless, don't you let it go. I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home. I'll spend forever, wondering if you knew, I was enchanted to meet you," Rachel sings, erasing the distance between their two bodies with a twirling dance. The pace of the song begins to slow and fade away as Quinn carefully presses against the ivory keys, a soft smile upon her lips.

"Please don't be in love with someone else," She whispers, inching closer to Rachel.

"Please don't have somebody waiting on you," whispers Rachel, closing the space until, finally, there is none at all. As the song reaches its coda and begins to fade away, the only sound that is left in the acoustic filled room is the sound of the two trying to catch their laboring breath. A pair of hazel eyes stare into the most beautiful shade of chocolate brown as she licks her dry lips; her hand ventures forward, carefully caressing a strand of the hair away from her face.

"Berry," Quinn whispers. Suddenly, there is like a tether between the two of them, like a million strings pulling them closer together, a gravitational pull that neither of the girls are strong enough to fight. As their faces move closer together, Rachel's breath halts as her chest begins to expand, inhaling the scent of the woman before her.

"Ms. Fabray," Rachel mumbles and Quinn nods her head quietly.

"W-we shouldn't. I mean, it would be completely unprofessional of me. You are my student. There is a line and I can't... I can't..." Quinn whispers, except no matter how badly she wants to, she is simply unable to fight against the pull. In another beat of silence, Quinn's hands cup Rachel's face as the two melt into a kiss. The brunette smiles into her lips, opening her mouth slightly as her hands explore Quinn's back; their bodies and lips moving together in a rhythmic harmony all of their own, blissfully unaware of their surroundings. Suddenly, it is like a passionate fire catches inside the pit of their stomachs, racing through their veins as they deepen their lustful kiss.

There is a very thin line between getting what you want and what you need and Rachel Berry and Quinn Fabray _just_ crossed it.

* * *

Reviews are _loved_.


	8. Chapter Seven: You Don't Know Me

Black Keys

**Tagline: **"A perfect rainbow never seemed so dull."

**Summary: **Love and Lust. Determination and Desire. Feelings and Sex. Student and Teacher. Right and Wrong. Those lines just keep blurring for Rachel Berry lately.

**Spoilers: **None, seeing as how this story is completely, painfully AU

**Rated: **Mature Audiences Only!

**Pairing: **Quinn/Rachel. Rachel/Finn

**Disclaimer: **All television shows, movies, books and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings and events thereof, are properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

**Author's Note:** My beta is currently away in France so all mistakes are my own. I apologize in advance for them and am hopeful they do not take away from the read ability of the story. Now, with that formality out of the way, two updates in one weekend? I must really love you guys! Actually, you guys inspired me. With your overwhelming love and support so I wanted to give you a little something in return. :)

* * *

Chapter Seven: You Don't Know Me, You Don't Wear My Chains

Their bodies move together like thundering and lightening, like the most perfect amount of drizzling rain and the early breaking of dawn; together they are beautiful, together they are _perfect. _Their bodies, while different sizes, move together with the utmost precision and balance that even trained gymnasts lack. They create a harmonious melody all of their own, a sound that even the most skilled composer could not create with the best orchestra he could find. They collide together time and time again, falling deep into the pits of desire and lust, suddenly losing grip with all reality they have on their surroundings.

It is not either of the girl's first kiss but in that moment of heat and passion, both of them find themselves wishing it could be their last. There is something about sharing a kiss with the person that you are meant to be with, even under these circumstances, that is so unexplainable that even the most infamous poets cannot find the right words in the human language to describe such a joy. It is as if suddenly, all the missing pieces that they had never known to be gone had suddenly been placed back together to fill those absent gaps in their hearts, souls and minds. Together now, skin upon skin, lips exploring beyond all boundaries of doubt and worry, nothing else seems to matter any longer.

It is as if their lips are made of morphine and neither of the girls can get high enough off each other.

Rachel's heart soars as her fingers deepen within the arch of Quinn's back, her lips moving quickly against hers as their soft peck of a kiss has resolved into a passionate make out; a search for the quench to their lustful wants for one another, despite their situation. Although the brunette never questioned herself or her sexuality, allowing this moment to unfold with the gorgeous blond suddenly answers all the questions that she may have ever had about herself or her connection with the woman.

Quinn's fingers curl in the nape of Rachel's neck, tugging absently at the small strands of baby hair that adorn the pale ivory skin. In her mind, she has somehow furthered herself from the reality of the situation, from the truth of their vulnerability at this moment in time. Suddenly, like the various times before, the only thing that matters is _Rachel_. The only thing she is concerned with is _Rachel_. The only thing she wants is _Rachel_. The passion consumes her, the desire controls her and the need makes her lose all touch with everything that is not the beautiful and heated brunette before her.

The blond opens her mouth against Rachel, deepening the kiss as a raspy rumble echoes in the back of hollow throat. This is the moment that she has longed dreamed of, the moment that she desperately tried to prevent, yet the moment that she wants and needs more than anything else in this world. Rachel Berry is her drug and there is nothing more that she needs than an overdose pulsing through her veins.

Rachel mumbles in a soft hushed whisper something that just misses Quinn's ears as she tugs at her closer; allowing their bodies to gently collide together in a tangling mess of disapproved passion. She smiles into the kiss, a tender, soft and warm smile that creates butterflies in Quinn's heart and it as if her stomach is suddenly doing summer-salts all on its own. She whimpers delicately, pushing Rachel back into the piano and the brunette's tiny but firm butt sits upon the keys, playing a horrid arrangement of notes, dashing the silence of the room.

And it is in that moment that Quinn Fabray, reluctantly, is sent crashing back to reality.

Softly, but elegantly, she pulls out from the kiss, her hazel eyes fluttering open. Through her slanted eyes, she can see the round face before her, full of innocence and big dreams; unafraid of the real world that awaits her. She is beautiful, amazingly so. A type of beautiful that should never be damaged or broken, even under the best intentions.

"Oh my God," Quinn whispers in a hushed and hurried tone. She pulls her hands away from Rachel, allowing her fingers to rake through her blond mess of locks as she takes a small step back away from the scene. Her heart is racing a new tattoo into her chest as she sucks in a gasp of air that is suddenly taken away from her.

"I know," Rachel states in a soft, warm voice that is barely audible. Her dark brown eyes slowly open and quickly they find the tall and gorgeous blond that is almost wincing before her. Her lips are pursed as she takes in the silence of the moment, studying Quinn, taking it all in and suddenly knowing that _nothing_ will ever be the same again.

"No," Quinn pauses with a shake of her head, her tasseled hair coming forward as she takes another step back away from the young girl, "well yeah, that too. But oh my _God_." She clasps her hand over her tightly lined lips, her eyes widened in shock. She stumbles backward in a laughter of a gasp, her eyes only focused on the darling brunette that leaves a skip in her heart.

"Quinn... wait... I..." Rachel stutters, pushing herself up from the piano, taking a careful step near the gorgeous blond. Even in such a small place, even with such very little distance between the two of them, Rachel cannot help but feel like suddenly they are miles apart. Quinn whimpers softly, her eyes focused on the young diva, her mind racing in her circles trying to make sense of all the thoughts and dreams she knows that she should not be having.

"I can't believe that we just did that. That _I_ just did that," Quinn exclaims with a soft and ever so disapproving laugh. Rachel sighs in disappointment, taking another careful and very small step toward her teacher, dropping her shoulder only slightly.

"I'm sorry. W-was it not good? I have not had that much practice. I am not exactly the _most_ wanted girl in McKinley High. Most people think that I am too high maintenance and too controlling or that I have tunnel vision. I think that it is absolutely juvenile to label a person as someone with tunnel vision only because I am focused on my dream; it is not something that should socially side line a person from experiencing all the milestones in their lives. And I just... I really did not want it to be bad. Because you are so beautiful and I..." Rachel trails off, shaking her head slightly back and forth as her brunette hair attempts to shade her face. Quinn sighs, pacing slowly back and forth, her eyes only focused on the one thing that matters now, the only thing that has _ever_ mattered.

"No. No, Rachel, it wasn't bad. It was good. It was..."

"Did you see fireworks?" The question catches Quinn completely off guard and she immediately stops her pacing; instead, she wrinkles her golden brown in confusion and wonderment as she finds herself falling deep into the all too familiarity of those dark brown eyes.

"Some people say when they kiss someone they see fireworks. At first I thought it was just some lame and overly cheesy line that they picked up from some romance movie. When I used to hear it, even in movies, I would cringe because how unrealistic is that? Almost as unrealistic as the girl in the horror films who runs toward the killer, because really, who is going to do that? Who is willingly going to run head long toward someone who is wearing a hockey mask and wielding a knife at their face?" To this, Quinn giggles and Rachel's heart soars, "anyways, I just... did you see fireworks?" Bashfully, she looks up from under her long eyelashes and Quinn swears that in that one moment, she melts.

"I saw more than _just_ fireworks. It was the whole Macy's 4th of July special inside of my head. Overrated bands, millions of dollars wasted on explosives, the roaring crowd and all," Quinn whispers, biting her bottom lip softly before shaking her head.

"Except, there can't be _any_ fireworks. Never again. We can never do this, do you understand? This... this should not have happened. Maybe it was the heat of the moment or the song or whatever it was, but it can't happen. I _cannot_ believe that I _let_ this happen!" Quinn exclaims with a hard laugh, picking up her pace on more as she tears her eyes away from Rachel.

"It is not like we did anything bad. We just... kissed. It is how people show affection," Rachel replies with a shrug of her shoulders. She watches at the gorgeous blond paces nervously before her, counting each step that she takes against the tiled floor.

Through out her entire life, Rachel Berry has had her eyes set on one thing; Broadway. The lights, the songs, the cheers of approval; she had been searching for the place that she had so long dreamed of, the place that allowed her to shine with her utmost talent, the place where she _belonged_. Yet now, watching Quinn whom paces, twisting her blond locks in her fingers, she realizes that place is not on a stage, not in front of thousands of individuals singing show tunes every night in a finer attire or seeing her name in less than Eco-friendly lights.

No, that place is _here _and _now. _

That place is _with_ Quinn.

"Do you even _hear_ yourself right now?" Quinn snaps, gesturing her hands in a frantic wave toward Rachel, "we _kissed_. Which is the very thing that we should **not** do. They have laws against it, you know? Laws that could get in me trouble and ban me from teaching ever again. At least in the state of Ohio, maybe even in the _entire_ country. And then what would happen to the Glee club, huh? God knows William Schuester is off somewhere having his mid life crises because one of his _perfect_ hairs fell out of place."

"Technically, his wife faked a pregnancy," Rachel pipes up and the blond's head snaps up, a harsh glare silencing the brunette. Suddenly, it is like Quinn is 180 degrees different; the once wonderstruck, flirty and confident woman had now been replaced with a shell of a person, worry and fright divulged on the lines across her face. She is different, almost scarily so and Rachel cannot find the right words to soothe her.

"Whatever. The point is, he is gone. He is probably off somewhere, singing karaoke in a bar, running his fingers through his overly jelled hair and reminiscing about the days when he used to have it all. He ran from his responsibilities and Mr. Figgins hired me to get you guys back into shape so he would not have to cancel the club. No-one else was going to step up. _I_ was the last resort. If it was not for me, there would be no Glee club and then I go and kiss you. _You_. My student!" Quinn chuckles a laugh, tossing her head back as her golden mane feathers in curls down her back. She quickens her pace as she licks her dry lips, glancing over at Rachel who only watches, recoiled, with wide eyes.

"I mean, who the hell do I think I am? Mary Kay Letourneau or something?" Quinn exclaims and Rachel closes her eyes, fighting back the tears as she takes a careful step toward her.

"I am not some thirteen year old boy who creepily hangs around your house and keeps showing up at your barely a teenager and you were thirty-five, neither did I convince you that divorcing your husband and surrendering your rights to your children was a good idea. I did not sell you out to the police and wait all those years for you to be released. I did not marry you or host Hot for Teacher Nights with you," Rachel interrupts and Quinn stops, staring at her with a wrinkled brow and Rachel only forces a soft smile.

"I had the flu recently. There was a special on television. I found it fairly intriguing. Although I did not agree with certain points that made Letourneau be seen as the victim. After all, she was the thirty year old woman who slept with the boy, she had control over it. It is not like he raped her, although she tried to make it sound like he did," Rachel trails off in a ramble with a flick of her wrist and when Quinn clears her throat, it is then she knows to cut the speech short.

"My point is, we did not do anything wrong. We just... k-kissed. I was not exactly pulling away from it, you did not force yourself on me or trick me into kissing you. The attraction is mutual," says Rachel, her eyes glistening with this hope and innocence and wonderment that no-one can ever put words to explain. She is awe struck; because even in her greatest melt downs, Quinn Fabray is still the most beautiful thing she has ever seen. Quinn stops her pacing abruptly, absently biting her bottom lip as the stinging tears crowd in the corner of her eyes as a shaky sigh dances from her lips.

"But it _can't_. And it's not. Not anymore. This... this was a mistake. A really big mistake. I am your teacher, Rachel. Your fathers, Principal Figgins and the state of Ohio have appointed me to your care, they trust me with you. I am meant to lead you in the right direction for your future, teach you about music and performances. To prepare you for stardom and the let downs and whatever life throws your way. I am supposed to be with you for an hour and then you get to go home to your parents and flirt with boys and be a kid while I go home and pay the bills and worry about life. I am a _teacher. _You are a _student_. Those lines are never meant to cross, do you not understand that? I mean, we could have gotten caught! Then what would have happened? You would have been the center of every gossip chain in this ratty little town and I would have lost my job! We were stupid and careless and caught up in the moment but I swear to God, it will never happen again. _T-This_ will never happen again," Quinn states in a soft shake of her head, extending her palm out in the direction of Rachel. There is a pause of silence, a brief beat of silence as the blond waits to hear something, anything to make her reconsider. Yet, when there is only just _silence_, she sighs, pushing her way across the room as she stumblingly attempts to grab her files from atop of the piano.

"S-so that's it? You are just going to... we kissed and you are running away? B-because people don't understand, because they would talk, because of the rules? That is not very fair to me, do you not think so?" Rachel breaks the silence, wincing softly when Quinn's hazel eyes crash into her dark brown and she curses inwardly when her stomach does a flip-flop.

"No, Rachel. This is not very fair to _me_. I need this job and you need to be Rachel Berry, the star that is meant for Broadway, hold nothing back and leave it all on the stage for every one to swoon and be in awe of your talent. I am not going to screw this up for you. For either one of us. Let it go. Just... _please_ let it go," She states, grabbing the loose sheets of paper, desperately trying to shove them back into the folder. She can feel the tears burning in her eyes and it takes all the strength that she has within her to keep them from spilling down her porcelain skin, from cutting her open.

"Quinn, I thought that you and I... you let down your guard with me and I thought that meant something... that we could..." Rachel trails off, placing her hand on Quinn's forearm and the touch jolts her; the blond jumps a few inches off the ground, jerking her arm back as she immediately recoils, her face suddenly pale as a ghost. She stumbles back away from the brunette, clutching her arm close to her chest and there is a look in her eyes that scares Rachel, a look that is nothing like one she has seen before.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, I just thought-"

"You don't know me! You think that you have this all figured out, don't you? That we could just fall in love and live happily ever after on Broadway because I opened up to you? Life does not work that way. We are not two foolish teenagers who are stumbling into love for the first time. You are seventeen years old, Rachel! And I am not! I have _lived_, you haven't. I've been out there in the real world and it has literally _killed_ me. You don't know what happened in New York, you don't know why I am here. So before you start spewing all these facts about how I belong here and how we are supposed to be together or whatever, you might want to learn a thing or two about the ways of the world," Quinn snaps, the tears welling her eyes beyond her control and Rachel stares, her mouth slightly ajar.

"You are a student, I am teacher and that is _all_ we are. All that we will_ ever_ be. You do not know me, you don't the first _thing_ about me so don't start thinking that you are my friend or that we can work this out or whatever else is going on in that head of yours because you aren't and we can't. This... this entire thing was just a really big mistake. I am not perfect, I still get to make those, you know? And that.. that is what this was. A _mistake. _It meant _nothing_ and it will _**never**_ be anything. Not as long as I am a teacher and you are a student here. Now, if you will excuse me, I really should be getting home," Quinn exclaims in a hard sniffle, trying desperately to keep from breaking down in front of the brunette diva. She turns quickly on her heels to leave but a tiny and very soft voice stops her.

"There were fireworks," mumbles Rachel and Quinn turns around, smiling softly through her tears.

"You don't _know_ me. Please, Rachel. Please just let me go. Just let me walk out of here and go home and we can pretend like none of this ever happened tomorrow; after all, it is a brand new day. Please do not make this any harder than it already is. Just.. please," Quinn begs and reluctantly, she nods her head. With one last attempt of a smile, Quinn turns around and walks a little less proud out the door. Rachel waits a few moments in the silence and when she realizes that she is really gone, she breaks down in a fit of tears against the piano.

* * *

She is drunk. It is not the first time that she has ever really been drunk and she knows in the pit of her heart, it will certainly not be the last. She has always tried to venture away from alcohol in her past, given the fact that her father is an alcoholic and she knows how quickly one drink can turn into several.

But tonight, Quinn _needs_ it. She needs the way that it burns the back of her throat when she swallows it, she needs the way that it churns in her stomach and numbs her pain, the way that it fills the void and makes her forget. Even if it just for a little while. She needs it to forget about it all; forget about how close she had been to living her dreams, to forget the way that she felt in the spotlight when it was her turn to sing, how the crowd roared with applause when it came to her final bow. She needs it to forget about what happened in New York,to forget about the pain, the hurt and the agony. She needs it to forget about Rachel, about the attraction, their chemistry, their kiss.

She just needs to _forget_. Just for a little while.

Quinn has never really cared much for the taste of gin, but it is now the alcoholic taste that dances upon her tender lips as she slumps into the sofa, ignoring the aching pain in her heart. She hates feeling this way; so bottomless and low. She always expects to hit the bottom at times like these, times when her past catches up with her, but she knows that the kind of pain she suffers is endless, there is no bottom or solution to the way that she feels. Not now and possibly not ever.

She takes another long swig of the alcoholic, cringing as it burns down her throat and into the pit of her stomach. She could have had it all today, after all Rachel Berry is pretty freakin' perfect. At least to her. With the hair and the voice and the personality and the really, _really_ big heart. She is absolutely amazing but loving her is not what is best for her and if there is one thing that Quinn knows, it is that people like Rachel deserve better. Better than Lima. Better than _her_.

Quinn closes her eyes, drifting back into the subconsciousness of her mind as she takes another long drink of the alcohol. She can feel herself slipping, further and further away from reality, her thudding heart suddenly becoming the only sound she can her.

_ The crowd is roaring after another phenomenal show; cheering, whistling and applauding, all the sounds that she loves to hear. She can feel the poison of performance and the rush of Broadway rush through her talent coaxed veins as she gives a final wave and a quick bow to the audience who is on their feet, all alight with love and admiration for her. She knows why people live for this stuff, and she cannot necessarily say that she blames them for getting high off this rush. _

_ Her cheeks warm with a hot blush, Quinn steps down the stairs backstage, heading for her dressing room. Slipping her fingers through her sweaty hair, she laughs lightly with a beaming grin. She feels like she is on top of the world and she swears that she never wants to come down from this feeling. Smiling with a soft nod of her head in acknowledgment to her co-star, Bella, she rolls the brass doorknob in her hand before she is stopped._

_ "Quinn!" She turns around to find Travis, the son of the man in control of the performance, smiling at her. She forces a soft smile back at him, attempting to look less than exhausted. Travis is a handsome twenty-seven year old with glistening blue eyes and dark raven curls and dimples so deep that she could almost fall into them. Every one thinks he is __**perfect**__, including Quinn._

_ "Travis. Hey," She smiles at him, shifting her weight awkwardly. _

_ "Such a great performance tonight! That is not surprising, though. You are always amazing," He beams a bright grin and Quinn giggles with a warm blush, shrugging her shoulders slightly. _

_ "We are very blessed with such a talented cast. I wouldn't be nowhere without them. It is a great show because of them, not just me," smiles Quinn, bashfully and Trevor laughs, shaking his head softly. _

_ "So modest. Hey, listen, there is an after party back at my apartment. I've invited the whole cast and crew, it is going to be a pretty big turn out. And I really would like it if you would come," Travis invites, raising his eyebrow slightly as he takes a step toward her. Quinn smiles, biting her bottom lip softly as she rolls the doorknob in her hand, pushing the door open slightly. _

_ "I don't know... I mean..."_

_ "Oh, come on. You are the big star! It would really mean a lot to me if you came! Please?" He smiles at her and she laughs softly. The ability to never give up had always been a characteristic that she found more than __attractive. She runs her fingers through her hair absently before she shakes her head, allowing the free strands to attempt to stick to her neck. _

_ "I don't think so. I am really exhausted and I should get some sleep. But thank you anyway. Maybe next time," Quinn smiles, pushing open the door wider for her to step in but when a tight grasp curls around her wrist, she finds herself immobile. Instead, she is forcefully turned back around as Travis's fingers are curved around her wrist, squeezing it tightly. _

_ "T-Travis, you are hurting me," whispers Quinn and the boy glares at her. _

_ "I said, it would mean __**a lot**__ to me if you came. And as one of the people whose Daddy is in charge of this whole ordeal, I suggest you come if you like your job," Travis looms over her and Quinn winces, desperately trying to pull her wrist away from the boy, "10 o'clock. Be there." He mumbles into her ear before kissing her cheek and just like that, disappears. But not without leaving his mark on Quinn, both physically and emotionally._

In a hard gasp, Quinn springs back to life, taking another long swig of the gin. She jumps to her feet, stumbling around the living room as she grabs the phone. She squints her eyes in the dim light, trying to focus on the numbers that are swaying with the room. Slowly, but effectively, she dials the seven digit number and immediately the voice mail picks up. She coughs as she takes another drink, forcing her way through the voice mail before the infamous beep is heard.

"R-Rachel, this is Quinn," she hiccups, "I-I was just c-calling to say... say that..." she hiccups again, "that I'm sorry for storming out the way I diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiid b-but its best if we never see each other again." another hiccup, "at least not for a while. I-I'll be your teacher and you'll be my student and we will only be j-just that. No more rehearsals. Not that you really need it away." She mumbles under her breath as she takes another drink of the beverage, "T-trust me I know what I am doing. I-I'm doing you a favor. I'm.. I'm not who you think I am." She whispers the end of the message before she ends the call, throwing the cell onto the sofa.

She stares into the flickering fireplace that burns a new log, taking another sip of the alcohol and she finds herself wishing that she was the one burning instead of the log.

Because, at least, the physical pain would be enough to make her forget about the emotional pain.

* * *

The more you review, the more I want to update. Just stating what we _all_ know. :)


	9. Chapter Eight: All At Once

Black Keys

**Tagline: **"A perfect rainbow never seemed so dull."

**Summary: **Love and Lust. Determination and Desire. Feelings and Sex. Student and Teacher. Right and Wrong. Those lines just keep blurring for Rachel Berry lately.

**Spoilers: **None, seeing as how this story is completely, painfully AU

**Rated: **Mature Audiences Only!

**Pairing: **Quinn/Rachel. Rachel/Finn

**Disclaimer: **All television shows, movies, books and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings and events thereof, are properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

**Author's Note:** Hi all! I know that it has been a long time since I have wrote for this fic, college is currently kicking my ass. *sigh* But anyways, this chapter has been sitting in my documents for a long time now and I have been weary to post it simply because I don't think it is the best that it could be. But I realize that for this story to continue, I just have to push past my writing insecurities and keep going. This chapter is long and it's really focused on their relationship so hopefully it is not too much of a disappointment. :)

* * *

Chapter Eight: All At Once

The only downside to being able to forget every worry the night before is being forced to remember everything the morning after. Quinn Fabray knows this better than anyone. As the dawn of the morning breaks¸ she finds herself being forced to remember every little painful detail about her life, even the details that she wishes she could forget.

She remembers the way that she leaned into Rachel yesterday after rehearsals, the way that her intoxicating scent filled her nose and the hidden giggle echoed in the back of her throat. She remembers the way that her skin felt pressed against hers, the way the rush of desire pulsed through her veins and the passionate fire ached in the pit of her stomach. She remembers the way that her hoarse voice whispered her name, the way their lips met together in a fury of a rush of lust and desire. She remembers how easy it was to forget with her and how it absolutely terrified her.

She also remembers rejecting her; she remembers how she told her she couldn't see her anymore, and the drunken voicemail that must have sounded so desperately stupid to the brunette diva. Quinn remembers all of it, every pain staking detail, no matter how badly she wishes that for _one _small second in her life, she could forget it all.

New York.

Rachel.

_Everything_.

Quinn steps out of her red, slightly dingy car with a disgruntled sigh, her joints popping at the forced movement. As the gleaming sun basks over the crowded parking lot of McKinley High, she takes a moment to glance over the crowds of people around her. Some of the fellow teachers stand idly by a white Chevy Impala, sipping on their mugs which she assumes to be filled with coffee. A few feet away, a crowd of students chatter at the entrance of the school, waiting until the last possible second to march themselves into the eight hour prison. She remembers when she felt the same way as they did; hell, she _still _feels that way.

She brushes her golden mane away from her face with a grumbling curse that she expects no-one to hear. Sometimes she wonders how she ended up here, back at McKinley High. And sometimes, she would give anything to forget the reason that brought her back.

Quinn grabs her bag from the passenger's seat of her car, quickly tossing it over her shoulder and across her chest. Rummaging inside, she grabs the infamous folder of sheet music and closes the door behind her, locking it with a swift turn of the key. She turns around, squinting at the harsh sun as she breathes in the slightly polluted air.

Today is a brand new day.

A new day to avoid the scene that unfolded yesterday in the music room.

A day to try her hardest to ignore any and all feelings that she has for Rachel Berry.

She just wishes it was that easy, she wishes that she could be able to forget anything and everything that the dazzling brunette has ever made her feel. She wishes that she could just ignore the thousands of strings that continuously pull the two of them together; despite the situation.

But forgetting Rachel Berry is a lot like forgetting what happened in New York City.

_Impossible._

She enters the school with a disheartening sigh; she wishes this could be so much easier. That she did not have to work in a place that was full of kids so much younger than she, kids that do not understand how _good_ they truly have things. Kids who are reckless and cocky and innocent, kids who have their entire lives before them full of dreams and hopes and chances. She wishes that she did not have to be in a place that is a constant reminder of everything that she has ever lost.

Quinn grumbles a soft curse that just misses every one's ears as she clutches tight to the folder in her arms. Glancing around the slightly crowded hallways, she does not see Rachel and she knows that now is her chance. Now is her chance to make a break for it and avoid all confrontation with the brunette. Now is her chance to pretend like nothing ever happened.

And her plan would have been flawless, truly, if the final bell had not rung at that_ exact_ moment.

A rush of crowding adolescents push past her; elbows and feet flying in every direction, shoving and cursing wildly at the realization that they are late once more. She is unable to withstand the rush of bodies and forcefully accidental attacks that are somewhat similar to a stampede of wild bulls and she is sent tumbling in every direction. With another shove, she is sent tumbling into another human body, sending both of them onto the ground, their things flying in every direction but the right one. A disgruntled curse falls from Quinn's lips as her body reacts to the tumble in sharp, shooting pain, wincing at the radiating pain that aches through her right arm.

And then… _silence_.

The once hustle and bustle of the hallway is now ceased.

Teenagers are gone.

All, however, expect _one._

"I am so sorry about that. I never realized that kids here are so eager to get to class. It is like feeding time at the zoo or something," Quinn apologizes in a husky groan, pulling herself up in a sitting position as she reaches for her folder. She had never been one to believe in fate or destiny but this moment make just actually convince her otherwise.

"I suppose this is some poorly thought out plan to gain my attention to make an apology for the drunken voicemail that you left me last night isn't it?" Immediately, Quinn looks up to find the brunette sitting across from her, her brow furied together in annoyance. Fate had brought Quinn Fabray to Rachel Berry the first time and fate had brought them together now. Quinn groans, raking her nails through her blond hair as she lays the disorganized folder in her lap, studying her now trembling hands.

"I am thinking that types like you do not make apologizes that often but normally they start with I am sorry, not with avoiding eye contact with me like I am some unfortunate leaper of some sort," Rachel states, breaking the sigh and Quinn rolls her eyes in frustration, tugging at the blond curls between her fingers.

"I am sorry that I left you an inappropriate voicemail and I promise that it will not happen anymore. There, is that what you wanted to hear?" Quinn snaps the acid in her voice even surprising herself. Almost instantly, the hardness of Rachel's face falters, her lips become pursed ad she recoils at the sound of the anger in the blonde's voice.

"No. That is not what I wanted to hear. I mean, it was an excellent apology and I graciously accept. But that isn't what I wanted. What I wanted was for you to say that you made you a mistake in saying what you did, that we _aren't_ a mistake. I wanted you to tell me why you left me a drunken voicemail, why you were drinking in the first place when you knew that you had class this morning. I wanted you to tell me why you freaked out so badly at the thought of us being together or even being friends. I know that I am not the most socially beloved at this school but I did not think any of that mattered to you," Rachel explains with a wrinkled brow. Quinn sighs, seemingly annoyed with the statement as she shifts her weight awkwardly, reaching for her bag that is scattered onto the floor.

"Berry, you_ know_ why we can't do this," Quinn sighs and Rachel only shakes her head.

"I know that people would talk and I think that is what you are afraid of. I am not saying that you and I have to be romantically involved, because even _I _am not sure if I am ready for such an emotional commitment. But what I am asking is that you should give us a chance to figure out what we are and where we stand. A chance to figure out _**what**_ we are, to figure out _**who **_we are. I am asking that you give me a chance to be a friend to you. I know that something happened in your past that has put you off with everyone else but I am not like everyone else. I am not someone who is going to just give up because you say so. I _care_ about you and I know that somewhere inside of you, you care about me too." Rachel states in a huff, grabbing her History book and clutching it within her hands. For a moment there is silence, a quiet silence that is enough to stop her heart and make her question everything in her life.

For a moment, there is no amount of words that could be said that could bring the two women closer; because they are already separated by thousands of unspoken words and emotions.

Because now they are separated by the truth that Quinn will do anything to keep her from knowing.

"You are Rachel Barbara Berry. You are the star of the Glee club. You are the one who has these big dreams to be on Broadway and see her name flashing in the bright lights of New York City. You have such big dreams and I am not going to be the one who stands in the way of that. You don't know what happened in my past and you don't know how it has affected me. You know _nothing_ about me. What happened yesterday was a mistake. It shouldn't have happened and it _will not_ happen again. Do you understand me? As for friends? We can't be that. We can't be_ anything_, Rachel. I am your _teacher_. And our relationship has to stop there for your own sake," Quinn explains, licking her dry lips as she sucks in a long breath. She does not expect her to understand this, because how could she? How could she understand something that even she does not understand herself? She feels the thousands of strings that pull them together, she feels the rush, the want, the desire, but she also knows that she is no good for Rachel. No matter how badly she wishes that she could be.

"You know what I think? I think you are scared. I think you felt something yesterday when we kissed…" She is interrupted however, when Quinn dives on top of her¸ both of their bodies tumbling onto the floor as Rachel mumbles something beneath Quinn's hand that is inaudible. Hazel eyes are glaring into a pair of deep russet brown and for a moment, even if it is a brief moment, the world seems to slow around them. Although they are the only two in the hallway, it is as if they are the only two in the world.

For a moment, there is only Quinn and Rachel. No labels. Just human beings.

"You can't say that here. You never know who might be listening," Quinn scolds and Rachel rolls her eyes, pulling out from beneath the hand.

"Oh, I am sorry. I did not realize that our agreement to show affection would be bad for your name. We did something that people have been doing since the beginning of time. The French do it twice as often as we do. You are the one who was more dominant than I was in the first place and now are hiding from it because of what? A label? What people think? What society thinks? None of that should matter, what should matter is what _you_ think," exclaims Rachel and Quinn looks her, her eyes beginning to droop a little. Her lips move to form words, however, none come out because she does not have the words. She does not have the words to explain to Rachel how someone who seemed so strong before truly isn't, to explain to her that this is not about society but this is about what is best for _her_, about protecting _her_. Slowly, Quinn rises up from the brunette, shaking her head softly as she pushes herself up onto her feet. She extends her hand down to Rachel who simply looks up at her, a wrinkled brow in confusion.

"I think that you are already late for class. There is no need to make you any later than you already are. That is not very professional of you to keep someone waiting," Quinn sighs and Rachel shakes her head, placing her palm within Quinn's as she allows the blond to lift her from the floor.

"Mr. Jamison is not going to mind that I am not there on time for his class. I am sure he does not even notice me. He is always too busy staring at Santana's boobs," She explains with a shrug of her shoulders and Quinn chuckles a quiet laugh. The sound quickens Rachel's heart beat and creates butterflies in the pit of her stomach; she never knew that a sound, other than Barbara Streisand's voice, of course, could make her feel so good inside. Quinn reaches down, gathering her folder and her bag within her hand and she gestures for Rachel's History book with a quaint smile and Rachel nods her head softly, placing it within her hands as the two slowly begin their journey to the classroom.

"So…"

"So."

Never has a silence been so awkward! Rachel groans, diverting her attention away from the golden manned blond who walks beside of her. Finally deciding to bite the bullet, Rachel ducks her head with a heavy sigh and swallows the lump in the back of her throat.

"Why were you drinking last night? And why did you decide to call _me_?" The question is rather blunt and it catches the gorgeous teacher beside of her entirely off guard. The walking halts for a brief moment as Quinn looks at the brunette with shifting eyes as she sways her weight from one side to the other. There are all these truths that Rachel deserves to know and yet, all these truths that Quinn just is not quite ready to share wither. Blowing the question off with a sigh and a roll of her hazel eyes, the blonde once again continues her walk to History class.

"Why do you ask all this annoying questions about my life?" Quinn groans in annoyance and Rachel shrugs, dropping her left shoulder only slightly. She cannot manage to keep her eyes off the woman beside of her; she can't stop staring at the eloquent beauty that makes her who she is. The beautiful frame of her body, the way her golden hair caresses her face in the softest wisps, her unusual and yet entirely perfect style, the way she walks. Everything about Quinn Fabray is beautiful and it is everything about her that leaves the brunette in awe-struck wonderment.

"My dads always told me that even the smartest people in the world ask questions; it is a form of learning. We are constantly learning our entire lives, even if it is small thing such as why one would become intoxicated the night before she knew she had classes. The second that we stop learning is the day that we die. You cannot sue one for simply being curious." Rachel states in her infamous all-knowing tone and Quinn grumbles.

"You did hear what curiosity did to the cat, right?" Quinn shares a glance with Rachel who shrugs with a smirk.

"Good thing I'm not a cat," retorts Rachel playfully and Quinn rolls her eyes with a hasty laugh. Instead of answering the previous question however, the blond just continues to walk, placing one foot in front of the other without so much as a second thought to the girl behind her. Because she knows that's how things have to be now; no more treating Rachel like she is different than anyone else, no matter exactly how _special_ she may be.

"Why were you drinking last night, Ms. Fabray?" Rachel asks again, pushing for the answer. Quinn groans, stopping at the history class with a huff, using her free hand to twist her fingers in her blond curls, tugging at them slightly. The fury and passion within her eyes collide hard with Rachel's and for a moment, both of the girls forget how to breathe entirely.

"God damn it, Berry, when are you ever going to fucking learn to mind your own business, huh? If there is a reason someone did not answer the question the first time you asked it when it is very clear they heard you, don't ask it again! I am not hearing impaired, I clearly heard you the first time that you asked the question; I just chose not to reply. For reasons that are my _own_. You are not my mother or my wife; I do not have to explain every fucking menial detail of my life to you. I am an _adult_; I don't have to make excuses for myself anymore! I was drunk because I didn't want to think about anything anymore, because for one second in my life I just wanted to _forget_. And maybe when you are a little older you will understand that concept! And when I'm drunk I do stupid things like call my students, but I insure you that phone call meant _nothing _. There, is that wanted, huh? An answer. Well now you have one," Quinn blurts in a snapping, harsh tone that sounds like acid when it falls from her lips and her heart cracks inwardly in her chest. Instantly, Rachel recoils, her face attempting to crumble but she keeps the cry in with a hard lined jaw. Yet, the look of hurt on her face is enough to tell Quinn all the things that she needs to know, all the things that she has done to her.

"Maybe because I just care about you," mumbles Rachel, careful to not allow her voice to crack. Quinn sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose as she clutches the books just below her chest. She wonders if Rachel can see it, just how she is falling apart on the inside, how this is literally _killing_ her.

"Well don't. Please just don't. I am no good for you, don't you see that, Berry? I am _no_ good. And I am standing here right now, trying my damnedest to keep you from getting hurt because you don't deserve to hurt. Not like this. And you're making so fucking hard to do this. I am trying to protect you, can't you see that? Don't you _get _that? I am _protecting_ you. So please just walk away and let me," Quinn chokes back the cry, fighting the tears that are desperately trying to form within her orbs. Rachel shakes her head with a shaky breath, licking her dry lips as she grabs the books from Quinn's arms in a hasty movement.

"Yeah and maybe if you would open your eyes, you would see that I am not a child. I don't need protecting; I can take care of myself. I can judge for myself if you are good for me or if you are not. I'm not helpless," Rachel huffs, clutching her books tight to her chest before her eyes meet Quinn's once more, and both of the girls break more than they ever expected,

"And for the record? This…well _this_ hurts me. A lot more than you probably ever could," The brunette mumbles, her voice breaking before she pushes past her and into the classroom. Quinn watches her for a moment, a brief and quiet moment before she groans, slamming her fist into the wall as she forces to choke back the cry.

How is it possible that doing the right thing for someone could hurt so damn bad?

* * *

Rachel Berry has always been good at keeping her emotions hidden; she always said that it is what makes or breaks a good performer. She has grown accustomed to keeping them hidden behind her many walls, faking a smile when she feels like falling apart, laughing when she is so angry that she wants to behead someone and hugging someone when she is actually hurt by them. She has always been the queen of keeping herself together and always staying so professional.

That is, however, until now.

The words of Quinn still ring in her ears, the harsh and acid tone still echoing somewhere deep inside of her, telling her how she needs to learn to mind her own business. She can still hear her, time and time again dismissing her, dismissing her feelings for her, telling her that she shouldn't care about her and she is trying to protect her and take care of her. It is like a broken record on constant replay in her head, breaking her more and more every time.

Does she really think that little of her? Does she really think that she couldn't take care of her own-self? That she was like some child who constantly needs to be babysat and have bubble wrap on every sharp object to keep her from injuring herself? Yet, more importantly, does Quinn really think that little of herself? Does she really think that she is no good for her? Can she not see how much of a difference that she has made in her life in the months that she has been here? Can't she see that she is the good, the _only_ good thing about McKinley High, the _only_ good thing that she really has going for her right now?

She knows better, she knows better than to feel this way. Quinn Fabray is a twenty five year old woman with so much experience in every aspect of her life. She has been on Broadway, a leading starlet who saw her name in lights, she has sang ballads to sold out audience every night and knows exactly how it feels to be on the big stage. She has been away from Lima, Ohio for years; she knows how to live on her own in a big city. Quinn Fabray is better than she could ever be, at least right now. She knows _better_ than to even think that for a second the two of them could remotely be friends and have similarities.

Except, even as illogical as it is, she does think that. Nobody gets her the way that Quinn does and she knows that once Quinn lets down her walls, they will be more alike than she could have ever imagined. If only she would just let those walls down, she could show her just how beautiful she truly is. They could have _something_; something that only comes along once in a lifetime, a life changing something, even if it is just a friendship.

But Quinn never gave them a chance. Never gave _her_ a chance. And that, even though she will never admit it, is the part that hurts the most.

She sits in the back of her History class, her face crumbling as the hot tears fall freely down her face, a heart wrenching sob sitting in the middle of her chest. She always swore that if she broke down she would not give other people the pleasure of seeing it, but now, well now she just cannot help it. She is _breaking_.

A muffled cry escapes from her lips, inaudible to the rest of the class because of The Gladiator that is being shown with full theatrical sounds, of which Rachel has never been so grateful for. She digs her nails deep within her arms as she sniffles, the tears falling effortlessly from her eyes as her heart breaks deeper in her chest. She hates how alone she feels now, even in a room full of crowded people.

"Rach?" She is startled when Finn places his hand on her shoulder as he takes the seat beside of her. She wants to wipe away the tears and put on a smile, she wants to pretend like everything is okay for him, but she just simply is not strong enough. Her teary eyes met with his dark brown and he wrinkles his brow, a quiet gasp of a sigh escaping from his pursed lips. His grip tightens on her shoulder as she continues to cry, the tears far too strong for her to fight back any longer.

"Hey, what's wrong? Shh. Shh. It's okay," He whispers, reaching his hand forward as he slowly caresses her cheek. This time, unlike all the times before, she does not pull away but simply gives into his gentle caress with a sniffling cry. "God, you are beautiful. Even when you cry." He whispers and she chokes a cry with a breaking smile before she throws herself into his arms, burying her fingers deep within the fabric of his shirt. She hides her face deep within his chest as she cries and Finn sighs, only in partial happiness as he ever so awkwardly wraps his arms around her.

"Shh. Rachel."

"Have you ever wanted something so bad that you could almost die but you know that you can't have it? No matter what you do?" She cries in a mumble into his chest and he chuckles quietly with a nod, even though he knows that she will never see it. He softly caresses her hair in a quiet hum, listening to every breath that she takes.

"Yeah. I know how much that hurts. B-but you're Rachel. Rachel Berry. And when you want something, when you really want something, you find a way to get it," Finn states and she lifts her head slowly, her teary eyes colliding with his russet brown and he smiles a soft dimpling grin at her. Nervously, he reaches down, brushing the tear away from her cheek as he cups her face in his hands, their gaze never breaking.

"You'll find a way," He smiles, placing a chaste kiss upon her forehead. She smiles at him, burying herself deeper into his embrace, her fingers twisted deep within the fabric of his shirt. This time, however, she is not searching for comfort or solace, she is searching for a feeling that she has so long forgot. A feeling that she has only felt with Quinn Fabray.

* * *

Today has been hell; first with the confrontation with Rachel, then Sue Sylvester gave her a few rounds, joking about how she is nothing but a Lima Loser as well, then Mr. Figgins informed her they are cutting the Glee budget by twenty five percent and now she has practice. Practice with the one girl that she has so desperately been trying to avoid all day, the girl who makes her feel all those things that she swore that she would never feel again, the girl who she knows better than to want to have _any_ kind of relationship with.

She paces nervously outside of the Glee room, pulling and tugging at her hair in absent nervousness too far lost in her thoughts to make sense of anything else going on around her.

When she first came back to Lima, she never expected _any_ of this to happen. She had come to Lima seeking an escape, a refuge from the tattered and painful life she left behind in Lima. She came to seek shelter, to seek kindness and love and generosity that she remembered the town being like years ago; the town where people grew up together and everybody knew each other by their first names. She came to find a place where she could forget about all the hurt, all the lies, all the abuse and fakeness that New York City possesses. She came home searching for just that, a _home_. She never, in a million years, could have anticipated anything like this ever happening.

She could have never dreamed of the day that she would be the instructor of the Glee club, the club that she viewed as cliché the entire stint of her fame on Broadway. She could have never dreamed that she would be walking the halls of McKinley High just as insecure as she left it. But, more importantly, she could have never fathomed the mere thought that she would be this drawn to one person, especially when that person is her student.

Why does Rachel have this effect on her? She growls the pondering thought with a fumbling curse. She is no good for her, she is broken and damaged and has far too much baggage for a teenage girl to even begin to handle. She will only hurt her in the end and a beautiful young light like Rachel does not deserve to be extinguished because of someone else's inability to control situations. In fact, she just may perhaps be the worst thing for the young starlet and yet she wants her. Oh God, how she wants nothing more than to be a friend to her, to be _more_ than that with her, to open up, to tell her _everything_.

But she can't do that, this she knows. Because no matter how hard Quinn tries, she will never be what Rachel deserves, she will never be the one thing that the brunette has been dreaming of her entire life.

Rachel deserves _good_ and that is not her.

Sighing, Quinn shakes her head to fight away the tears before she pushes herself into the room in which the kids sit, sending a soft smile in their direction. She tries desperately not to pay too much attention to them in fear of meeting Rachel's russet eyes, but when she sees the starlet sitting next to the football player, a bright playful smile upon her face, her heart drops into her stomach. They are laughing, smiling, enjoying each other's company and the pain radiates in Quinn's core.

She halts in her journey to the piano and only watches the two of them, playful and happy, with wide, heartbroken eyes. The files that are in her hands fall onto the floor, the papers scattering idly as she stands, stuck in the moment that never seems to end. Rachel glances up at the woman with a bright smile, cuddling into Finn before she returns her attention back to the jock and Quinn snorts, the tears burning within her eyes.

"Ms. Fabray, are you okay?" Kurt asks, but his voice sounds like a muffled as if he was under water or a million miles away. Because they don't matter, _nothing_ matters except for the brunette starlet that is sitting curled up beside of the jock who has been in love with her his entire life. Nothing matters except for Rachel. No matter how badly she wishes that she could deny or ignore the simple fact.

"Ms. Fabray?" This time it is Rachel who calls out her name and Quinn snaps back to reality, like a thousand waves crashing into the shore, like a cannon ball colliding into a brick wall at full force. She chokes back the cry, batting her eyelashes quickly to keep the tears at bay before she laughs briefly, licking her dry and cracked lips.

"Rehearsal is cancelled today. I just… I am not feeling very well. I think I'm coming down with a bug and rather than infect you all with it, I will just send you home or wherever it is that you go after this. I…um… I'm sorry for springing this on you last minute. You'll forgive me, I'm sure. I just… I have to… please excuse me." Quinn chokes back a cry as she turns on her heels, quickly escaping from the room, ignoring the papers that she has left scattered on the floor and the kids that she has left sitting wide eyed and confused behind her.

She dashes half way down the hallway until the tears are too heavy in her eyes for her to able to see and she stops, slumping against the lockers as a heart breaking sob escapes from her. She does not know what hurts so badly, the fact that Rachel blatantly does not care for her or the fact that she had willingly moved on to Finn without so much as a second thought. She had been the one who pushed her away, who pushed her straight into Finn's arms, who told her that she needed to be protected from her. This pain is all self-inflicted and yet this pain is all too much for her to bear.

There is a tapping on her shoulder that creates a loud escape of a cry that startles even the blonde; one that makes her question entirely if she is crying because of Rachel, because of all the things that she shouldn't feel for her, because of what happened in New York or because of all of it just entirely. She doesn't know why she is crying, she just knows that she _is_ and now someone has caught her in the act.

Turning around she finds herself gazing into the most familiar pair of russet brown and her stomach twists in sickening knots at all the things that she feels, all the things that she knows _better_ than to feel. Except she can't fight it, not now, not after the hellacious day she has had. She just isn't strong enough, not today. She can't fight it and honestly, she is not sure that she even wants to anymore.

"Quinn." It's the first time that she ever says her name and it is enough to crack her heart deeper in her chest. She is good; she is so painfully and perfectly _good_. She is going to hurt her, she is going to break her, she is going to be the one that puts her light out just the way that New York put her light out. She knows she should fight it, she knows that she should protect her from herself, that she should be stronger for her but right now, she just simply cannot.

"I-I'm sorry. I am _so_ sorry." Quinn cries and Rachel shakes her head with a warm, but faint smile.

"No, it's okay. It's fine. I shouldn't have—" However, she does not finish her sentence because, instead, Quinn throws herself into her, wrapping her arms tightly around Rachel's lower back as she buries herself deep within her arms. Rachel stumbles for a moment, unsure of how to react to the sudden connection between the two of them. She stands, dumbstruck for a moment before she quietly wraps her arms around Quinn, slowly rubbing her back.

"It's going to be _okay_," Rachel nervously whispers as Quinn clings to her. The blond holds her tight, the tears streaming down her face as she fights the sob that wants to escape from her. Instead she only stands with Rachel Berry wrapped her arms, too afraid to let her go.

Because letting her go means that she is alone and she has been alone for _far _too long.

* * *

**A/N: **Hmm, so does Quinn's break down really have to do with seeing Rachel and Finn all couple-y or is it something else entirely? Well, I guess you'll just have to wait and see. Reviews are always a very important process to the next chapter's production; I look back to you guys for inspirations so please tell me what you think. :)


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